What is Going On?
by PenguinLuvr
Summary: Following OotP I think... Harry is staying at Hogwarts for the summer, but nobody will tell him why. When his dreams begin to worry him, nobody will tell him what is going on, except perhaps one person...
1. Dreams

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A/N: Summer just started and I am bored. This is the result.

…………………………………….

Harry stared down at the book, frustrated. What a stupid assignment! How could he possibly write five feet on the uses of worm blood in potions? Finally giving up and making a mental note to owl Hermione later for help, he got up and began to leave the library when he heard a quiet voice coming from the other side of the library. Curiously, he made his way slowly closer to see if he could find out who it was.

"That's not right! It can't be…" He heard mumbled from the opposite side of the bookshelf he was pressed up against, followed by the sound of books being moved and pages being turned. "If that were true then… no, that _can't_ be right. Damn!"

Harry moved over to peep through a spot where books were missing to see the other man. He was surprised when he saw Snape bent over the table looking confused, an expression Harry couldn't remember ever seeing on the man that usually appeared to be in control of every situation. Figuring he should probably leave before being noticed, Harry began to quietly walk away when the sound of a book slamming closed made him jump and he tripped over a pile of books on the floor behind him.

He stilled, waiting to see if Snape had heard him. He really wasn't in the mood for a run-in with Snape. So far he had spent the last week he'd been staying at the castle skillfully avoiding him.

He realized that his hopes were in vain, however, when Snape's voice barked from around the books, "Who's there?" Not a second later he was standing face-to-face with his least favorite professor. "Potter," he said, his silky voice cutting through the otherwise silent library, "I should have known. And what exactly are you doing lurking about the library?" he asked with a glare.

"I… um…I was just studying Sir." Harry stuttered, not making eye contact, still surprised from Snape's sudden appearance.

"Studying?" Snape asked in a mocking tone, "The Great Harry Potter, studying? Why do I find that hard to believe?" He then took note of the potions book under Harry's arm. "And potions nonetheless? Well this certainly is a surprise." Continued the sarcastic tone, "Has the Great Harry Potter finally realized that perhaps his fame alone won't allow him to pass my class? And just how is the essay coming along?" He grabbed the empty scroll of parchment from Harry's other hand.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, trying to take it back, but to no avail.

"Tisk, tisk, Potter. I'm afraid I won't be able to give you a passing grade on this assignment. Quite disappointing." He said as he unrolled it, looked at it, and then gave it back.

"I haven't started writing yet, Sir." Harry responded through clenched teeth, annoyed at his Professor for always finding something to criticize him on.

"So I can see, Potter." He paused. "The Headmaster has informed me regarding the conditions of your arrival to Hogwarts. However regardless of the fact that I now have to deal with your constant presence in the castle during a time that I would normally have free from teenage annoyances, I will not permit your spying on me—"

"But I wasn't—"

"Do not interrupt me while I speaking." Snape demanded. "I will not permit your spying, or hovering, or whatever you should choose to call it." His voice then dropped to a hiss. "Unlike the rest of the staff and the rest of the wizarding world, I will not bend backwards with sympathy for the Boy-Who-Lived simply because he's having bad dreams," at that, Harry blushed slightly. So Dumbledore had told Snape about the nightmares… "or because he lost his _precious_ Godfather." Harry's embarrassment turned to anger at the mention of his Godfather. He opened his mouth to reply when Snape continued. "I expect you to stay out of my way. Now leave." He ended with another ice-cold glare.

Harry was about to protest when he thought better of it and turned and walked out of the library, still fuming at the nerve of that git to even mention Sirius. He was walking quickly towards the Gryffindor tower, where he'd been staying, when he heard voices around the corner and he noticed that he was near the Headmaster's office. As he approached he heard Dumbledore speaking in whispers.

"He cannot know. Especially not right now. He is still dealing with the loss of his Godfather; he won't be able to handle the truth right now. We'll tell him when he is older. Trust me on this, Minerva."

Harry sighed, unsurprised that he was the subject of their conversation. "But Albus, he has a right to know what we know. This concerns him and it is unfair not to tell him," she argued.

"Not now, Minerva. I will tell him when the time is right, but for now my decision is final." He said with determination. He heard McGonagall sigh in defeat.

Harry, realizing that he wouldn't be able to hear what they were talking about, continued around the corner, trying not to appear as if he'd been listening. They both looked in his direction.

"Mr. Potter." She said with a note of surprise. Dumbledore smiled in greeting. Both looked as if they were hiding something, so Harry used it to his advantage.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, trying to look innocent.

"No, my dear boy, why do you ask?" Dumbledore lied easily, his face quickly covering everything up.

Harry paused. "No reason," he lied back.

"Good," Dumbledore smiled, and then looked past Harry in the direction from which he had come. "Ah, Severus. Exactly the person I needed to find. Please, join me in my office. I'll see you around, Harry." He nodded at him and Harry took the hint and left.

He reached Gryffindor Tower and plopped down on a chair by the fire, which immediately sprang up, filling the room with warmth. Harry sighed. He had arrived a little over a week ago from the Dursley's house. Dumbledore had arrived in the middle of the night announcing that he must leave with him at once. While Harry was more than happy to leave the "care" of his relatives, he had been told little about why he was here. He had owled the Headmaster the previous night regarding a nightmare he'd had, but it hadn't been anything out of the ordinary: Voldemort had been there and he had tortured a few muggles and Harry had woke up with his scar burning painfully. It had been a perfectly normal dream considering who he was.

Since he'd been here he had overheard many partial conversations similar to that which he'd just heard. They had all been regarding him and when he asked about them, Dumbledore or whichever Order member was around told him that it was nothing, there was nothing to be concerned about and he needn't worry so much. Quite an odd request considering he was supposed to defeat Voldemort someday.

He was getting tired of being kept in the dark about his life.

The castle was boring during the summer. There was nothing much to do to keep him occupied, as Dumbledore had "requested" that he stay inside, meaning that he could not go to Hagrid's hut to visit fang or go flying. So that only left doing homework and wandering around aimlessly. He rarely ran into anybody, as the only people remaining at the castle were himself, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape as far as he could tell. There was also the occasional Order member that he saw. Harry stared into the flames, lost in thought, as his eyes began to close…

"_Bring them to me," hissed Voldemort._

_Two women were brought forward, escorted by two robed and masked figures, and roughly pushed to the ground._

"_Sarah, Melissa, how good to see you both. I am so glad you could join me today." Voldemort then yelled "_Crucio!_" and the two women began screaming with pain._

_Harry was shocked. As soon as the curse had been yelled, his body began to hurt. It was nothing like how the curse felt, or rather, it was, but a very watered-down version of it. It was painful, but bearable._

_The curse was lifted and Harry didn't feel the pain anymore._

"_Ladies, I am very disappointed in you both. You were given the chance to join me, to fight against Dumbledore and his little Golden Boy, but you declined. Your skill and power could have been put to good use with me, but alas, your decision has been made." Voldemort said in mock-sadness._

"_We… would never… join you," gasped one of the ladies as she lay panting on the ground, voice hoarse from screaming._

"_The choice was yours. _Crucio!_" he yelled again. They screamed as Harry began to feel the curse, slightly stronger than before._

Harry sat up suddenly and wiped away the band of sweat on his forehead and tried to slow his breathing. How could this be? How could he feel pain in his nightmares? Emotional pain- that was a given, but actual, physical pain? This wasn't right. He rose and walked shakily to the bathroom, realizing that he felt weaker than he had when he had lain down. He quickly washed his face, relishing the cool water against his burning scar. He then exited the common room and headed towards the stone Gargoyle entrance to the Headmaster's office.

When he arrived there he realized he didn't know the password, but before he was able to begin listing sweets, Dumbledore appeared from the staircase and looked at him in mild surprise. "Harry, my boy, are you alright?" he questioned as he ushered him into his office and offered him a lemon drop, which Harry politely refused.

"I… I don't know, Sir," he began, and then proceeded to tell the Headmaster about the new addition to his nightmares, hoping he could explain it. As he finished he looked at the Headmaster who looked thoughtful.

"Curious…" he mumbled, looking lost in thought. He then opened a desk drawer and took out a small piece of parchment, which he quickly scribbled on then folded it and handed it to Harry. "Please take this down to Professor Snape for me Harry," he requested with a smile.

"But, Sir…" Harry began to protest. He was not in the mood to confront his Professor right now, especially without receiving any answers from Dumbledore.

"He should be in his classroom now, preparing his lesson plans for next year. Good day Mr. Potter." He then began to read over something on his desk.

But Harry ignored the dismissal. "But Sir. What about the nightmare? What about the curse? Do you know what is going on? Why am even here in the first place?" Harry asked exasperated. Why wouldn't he tell him anything?

"You needn't worry yourself with that now, Harry. Now please, deliver the note," he said with a tone that said the conversation was over.

Harry sighed and left the office, heading towards the dreaded dungeons. How could he not "worry himself with this?" What was Dumbledore thinking? Why wouldn't he just tell him the truth for once?

He arrived outside the classroom, regretting even going to the Headmaster in the first place. Not only did he not receive any answers, but now he had to face Snape as well. He rubbed his scar absently and realized he had been doing that since he had woken up, as it still burned. Cautiously, he knocked on the classroom door. "Enter," came the annoyed reply from inside. He slowly opened the door and stepped inside, making sure to leave to door open behind him.

Snape looked up from his desk where he had many papers scattered and books lying open. "What do you want Potter?" he snapped with his infamous glared trained on him.

Timidly, Harry stepped forward and held out the note. "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to give this to you," he said quietly. As Snape snatched it from him he began to wonder what was written in the note. Too bad he hadn't thought to read it before, but knowing Dumbledore he had probably placed a charm on it to prevent him from reading it.

He watched silently as Snape scanned the note, unsure of whether or not he should leave or stay. His question was answered when Snape said under his breathe, "Intriguing," and then looked up at him. "Can you explain the pain you felt in your dream, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked with a surprising non-hostile tone.

Harry, surprised, responded, "Um… It was kind of like the Crutacious curse, but scaled down. Like a really weak version of it." He hoped this answer was enough because he couldn't think of any other way of describing it.

It seemed to be, as Snape then got up and walked into his office through a door behind his desk. "That will be all, Potter."

But Harry didn't leave. He refused to not get any answers regarding his nightmare. What if it happened again? Snape walked back into the classroom with a rather large book in his hand and glared at Harry. "Something else, Mr. Potter?" he asked, his tone of annoyance had returned.

Realizing that he was likely committing suicide by asking, Harry began. "Sir, do you know what is going on? The Headmaster won't tell me anything and I believe that I have a right to know." He said this with more confidence than he felt.

Snape looked surprised for only a moment before his expression returned to normal and Harry wasn't even sure if he'd seen the brief change at all. He paused before responding, as if contemplating his answer. He then nodded. "I have my suspicions which I believe are correct and this new development strengthens my theory," he said evenly and scholarly. He then sat down and began to flip through the book, paying no attention to Harry. After waiting a minute it was clear that he did not intend to continue so Harry pushed his luck.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what is your theory? Why is this happening? Dumbledore said not to worry, but I am finding that difficult to do."

For a few more moments Snape was silent and Harry was about ready to give up when he began to speak. "Dumbledore is a fool for telling you not to worry." He looked up and met Harry's eye. "This is a serious matter. At the time I am not going to tell you what I believe the cause to be, however I will leave you with this warning: I do not predict that this will go away. If anything, I believe it will get stronger. Nonetheless, as difficult as it may seem, you cannot let this run your life and you cannot devote your entire attention to it. The Headmaster most likely refused to tell you for fear that you would do just this, however not knowing what is happening will likely weigh on your mind even more. What happens will happen, regardless of what you do. For now, simply try to continue on with your life without fretting too much about this. When the time is right, you will know everything, but it is not necessary right now. If this happens again, please tell either the Headmaster or myself. Good day, Mr. Potter." He finished then began to read again, clearly excusing Harry.

Harry quietly said "Thank you for the truth," then left the classroom. If he had turned back he might have seen the shocked look the Potions professor had on his face at being thanked by his most despised student.

At last, he had the truth, or at least more of the truth than he'd had before. But now he was worried. Snape had said that the dreams might get stronger, and that frightened him. He was also curious as to Snape's honesty with him. Nobody else would tell him anything, why did Snape? Snape hated him. What was going on?

………………………..

Harry laid in his bed tossing and turning, unwilling to fall asleep, knowing that what confronted him would be another nightmare, another killing, and, according to what Snape had said, more pain.

………………………..

"Crucio!_" Voldemort yelled._

The man screamed and Harry's body felt as if fire was burning it from the inside out while his organs were being grinded together.

Harry sat up and gasped in pain. He clenched his fists around the covers of his bed and closed his eyes tightly as he waited for the pain to dull. _I suppose Snape was right._ He grimly thought.

…………………………….

A/N: So, what do you all think? I haven't proof read the story at all, so I'm sorry if there are any horrible mistakes in it, but it is getting kind of late.

Should I continue? I've never been much of a storywriter, more of a story reader, but I do have some free time now, so maybe I could start writing? Or it this totally awful and should I delete it and hide my face in shame? I am very insecure about my writing abilities, so any feedback is welcome.

I will probably continue the story, whether people like it or not. The difference will be whether I continue it for myself, or online.

So I have a basic online for the story… No, actually I don't. It's more like a couple of ideas that will somehow be incorporated into the story. And Snape is smarter than me, because I haven't really figured out what's up with Harry yet; maybe Snape could lend me his book? I know what will happen, just not why yet.

Anyways, it's late and I think I'm rambling. Goodnight all and PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK, I need to know if this is any good. Thanks!


	2. Yet more dreams

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you to those who reviewed. So now I will continue. And by the way… yes, some of the characters' personalities are a bit off from the books, but it's okay. They have to be for where I am going with this.

So I am not really sure where this falls into in the Harry Potter books… at this time, Snape is spying for Dumbledore, Sirius has died, but I'm not really sure, it might be between 5 and 6. But I do apologize if some facts are incorrect for that time period. Blame my teachers this past year for not allowing me time to reread the books every day.

Also, I apologize if anybody wants better descriptions of the settings or anything, because I cannot write like that, after three years of analyzing them in honors English classes, I despise long descriptions so my story will hopefully not include any of them.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize I do not own.

………………………

Harry sat up and gasped in pain. He clenched his fists around the covers of his bed and closed his eyes tightly as he waited for the pain to dull. I suppose Snape was right. He grimly thought.

………………………..

As the pain slowly subsided, Harry opened his eyes and released the covers from his grasp. So Snape wasn't kidding about the pain worsening in his dreams. He sat up and his head swam a little, dizzy still from the dream. He got up and went into the bathroom, splashing water on his face. His legs felt weaker than they had before and he figured it was an after-effect of the curse he'd felt. His scar was again burning furiously. He looked up at himself in the mirror and noticed that his scar was red and tried to smooth his hair over it. He sighed and gave up the futile task.

He was about to return to bed when he remembered Snape's request that he tell either Dumbledore or himself if it happened again and he weighed his options. Either he could go to Dumbledore, who wouldn't tell him anything about it, but it would at least be a friendly face, or he could go to Snape. While Snape was a bastard to him, at least he might tell him something useful. He had been the only person who hadn't told Harry not to worry. In fact, he had almost told him the opposite. There was also the possibility that if he went to Dumbledore, the Headmaster might send him to talk to Snape again anyways.

Harry sighed. He really did not want to deal with Snape's sarcasm and glares this early in the morning. What time was it anyways? He stepped back into the dormitory and glanced at his watch on his bedside table. Five a.m.… Was anybody awake at this hour?

He briefly considered trying to return to sleep, but dismissed the idea, knowing he wouldn't be able to. He decided to wander around the castle for a little while before going to the Headmaster's office.

He changed into robes and went down the stairs and through the portrait hole and began to wander through the corridors, assuming that he wouldn't see anybody else. 'Who else wandered the castle at five o'clock in the morning during the summer?' he wondered, absently rubbing his scar.

As his feet took him through the familiar passageways he let his mind wander. He still couldn't believe that Snape was the only person who wasn't lying to him. But then, as he thought about it, Snape had never been one to lie to him. True, he had always been a slimy git of a bastard and had taken every opportunity to make his life here a living hell, especially in Potions class, but he had always been honest with him.

Snape had made it clear how he felt about Harry from the first day and, while he'd never been anything resembling nice to Harry, he had been upfront with him for the most part. He told Harry when he messed up a potion in class (rather rudely) and had pointed out his flaws. Now that Harry thought about Snape's behavior objectively, he realized that it was a good contrast to the normal—everybody falling head-over-heels for the boy-who-lived, always letting his behavior slide and treating him as if he were going to break at any moment.

Snape had never treated him as a hero, which was the thing that annoyed him most about the wizarding world.

"Damn it!" Harry jumped back in surprise when a voice, quieted by distance, broke the silence surrounding him. He took note of his location and realized he was right outside the library, which was where Snape's voice had come from. He had only just realized this when the door swung open, nearly hitting him. Snape stormed out, nearly running into Harry, before coming to an immediate stop facing him. "Potter!" he yelled. Harry took an involuntary step backwards. "What are you doing here?" It was more of an accusation than a question.

"I… um…" Harry stammered. "I was just going to see the Headmaster, Sir."

"Wrong direction." Snape said with a tone of anger.

Harry then realized that he had been going in the opposite direction of Dumbledore's office. "I… um… was just wandering around. I wasn't sure if he would be awake yet and didn't want to disturb him." He decided the truth would probably be best considering he couldn't think of a lie.

"And what could possibly be so important that it could not wait a few hours?" Snape asked, not sounding as if he really cared, but was only using this as an excuse to ridicule Harry.

Harry paused for a moment, considering whether or not he wanted to tell Snape about the dream. Without thinking about it he rubbed his scar again. The burning from the previous day had finally ended soon before he went to bed, but this was even stronger. "Um…" he began, trying to find the right words.

Snape interrupted his train of thought, however, when he saw his scar. "You had another nightmare." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement that held less hostility than before. Harry nodded in confirmation. "Follow me." Snape stated, then turned and walked rapidly towards the dungeons.

Harry had to jog a few times to keep up with the other man's fast pace. It didn't help that his head still hurt and his was feeling a bit weak, but not as bad as right after he'd woken up.

They turned a familiar corner and Harry followed Snape silently into his classroom. Harry noticed that as Snape entered the few torches around the room spontaneously lit and filled the dark room with an eerie glow. Snape stalked to the front and sat down behind his desk. Harry walked behind Snape and stood in front of the desk, waiting for the man to speak.

After a moment of silence, Snape asked, "What was the pain like this time in comparison to the pain you felt in yesterday's dream?" Harry tried to figure out Snape's tone; he wasn't being rude and he didn't sound angry. It definitely wasn't friendly, but… It was as if he was a scientist and Harry was his subject. The thought was disturbing. He realized that Snape was waiting for his answer.

"Well," he began, "It was basically like before, but stronger. When I woke up I could still feel it and it took a little while for it to pass," He said cautiously, unsure of what Snape would say.

"And your scar?" He asked looking at the red mark on Harry's forehead.

Harry rubbed it while answering. "It's burning like it always does when I am around Voldemort." He was surprised when the man didn't flinch at the name. He hoped that Snape would give him some answers as to why this was happening.

Snape observed the boy in front of him. He was definitely small for his age and didn't look healthy at the moment. He noticed that the boy obviously wasn't getting enough sleep, which Snape figured was probably due, in large part, to his nightmares about Voldemort that Dumbledore had mentioned. He also noticed that his legs were shaking slightly, a trait commonly associated with the after-effects of the Crutacious curse, one he was quite familiar with.

"Sit," he ordered. Harry obediently sat down in the nearest desk, grateful though he tried not to show it.

However Snape did notice the small amount of relief that the boy showed as he sat down and realized that the brisk walk had probably worn the boy out. _He'll have to get stronger if he ever plans to beat the Dark Lord._ Snape thought.

"So it has only been the past two days that you have felt any pain in your dreams?" he inquired.

Harry nodded. "Yes, well, aside from my scar."

"And you have felt the full effects of the Crutacious curse before, have you not?" Snape asked evenly.

Harry paused, unsure of where he was going with this. "Um, yeah," he said, looking away.

"On a scale from one to ten, with ten being the actual curse cast upon you, rate the past two dreams," he requested sounding curious.

Harry thought about it. "Yesterday's was maybe 0.5, today's was maybe a 2 or a little less."

"You don't sound sure."

"I am," Harry lied.

Snape just looked at him and Harry felt as though he could see right through him. "Right. That will be all Mr. Potter. Please inform me of any changes." With that, he began to get up from his desk.

"Sir?" Harry said quickly. Snape looked at him. "Um, can you tell me why this is happening? Please Sir? I need to know." Harry said almost pleadingly. He was a little embarrassed at practically begging his most hated professor, but he was desperate for this information.

"The Headmaster disagrees on that account. I have already told you more than he wishes you know. Good day, Mr. Potter." The last line was said with such force that Harry knew better than to press for more information and left.

………………..

Harry lay on his back on the grass beside the lake, letting the sun beat down on him as he tried not to think about what was happening to him or about the fact that nobody would tell him anything. However his mind kept drifting back to the conversation he had overheard when he had stayed behind to listen through the partially open door to the potions classroom.

Snape had immediately flooed Dumbledore and after briefly filling him in on what Harry had told him, Snape had sighed heavily. "This isn't supposed to happen, Albus."

"_You knew it might come to this, Severus. You told me so yourself." Dumbledore said, concern lacing his voice._

"_I know, but it wasn't supposed to happen this fast. That is two dreams in two days with it escalating rapidly. According to my studies, the change should be gradual. This shouldn't be happening!" Harry could hear quiet footsteps and figured that Snape was pacing in front of the fireplace._

"_Always a scholar, Severus. While the amount of information you have discovered upon this subject is impressive, you cannot base your predictions solely upon studies of the past. I do not recall there ever being a situation similar to young Mr. Potter's in the entire history of the wizarding world. He is a unique boy and his connection to You-Know-Who is equally unique. It cannot be explained by past research. Not all answers can be found in books, Severus."_

"_I know this, Albus. Do you think I've stayed alive this long by defending curses with books?" Snape replied harshly and sarcastically. He then sighed and Harry heard chair legs scrape and assumed Snape had sat down. "I just don't know what to do Albus. I thought I would have more time than this to find a solution, but now…" He trailed off in thought for a moment. "Albus, I've already told you the consequences if this continues. It could be disastrous." He ended worriedly._

"_I am aware of this Severus, but Harry is strong. If it comes to this, he will manage, he will have to." Dumbledore said with determination. Outside, Harry rolled his eyes, thinking that he was giving him too much credit._

_His thoughts were echoed when Snape said sadly, "Nobody is that strong, Albus."_

_Sounding a little surprised, Dumbledore commented, "Why, Severus my dear boy, what do you mean 'nobody'? You are that strong."_

_Snape gave a short, dry laugh. "No, Albus, I am not. I only appear to be and the appearance has taken many years to create. Potter has only a short time."_

"_Does he know about all you have been doing to try to find a way to help him?" Dumbledore questioned._

_Again with the short, dry laugh. "No, Albus, he does not. And I somehow doubt he would care." _

"_You underestimate him, Severus. Won't the two of you ever be able to be in the same room without wanting to rip each other's heads off? Maybe if he knew all that you're doing—"_

"_No, Albus. You will not tell him. We are done here." He said annoyed. Harry heard him get up and began to walk away as quickly as he could without them hearing on his weakened legs._

This conversation did nothing to lighten Harry's mood, it only made him worry more. He wouldn't be strong enough to handle what was coming? What would be that bad to make them think that? Something that even Snape didn't think himself capable of handling? And he shouldn't worry?

Harry rolled on his side and stared out at the giant squid playing in the center of the lake. Why did bad things always have to happen to him? Not that he wished them upon anybody else, but still, it would be nice to be normal for once in his life. As he lay there, he felt his eyes begin to close and fought against them, unwilling to sleep for fear of what would happen. However it was a losing battle and he soon slipped into an uneasy sleep.

……………………….

Snape left his office, furious at Dumbledore. That crazy old man was always trying to make him think of Potter as something other than the spoiled little brat that he was. He headed towards the forbidden forest in search of some rare potions ingredients. Walking through a forest full of magical creatures that could likely kill him always seemed to relax him.

He was returning from a spot deeper in the forest when he heard something. His immediate thought was that it was a bloodthirsty creature ready to eat him, but he then realized how close to the edge of the forest he was and that the noise came from something, someone, outside the trees.

………………………….

"Lucius, you have failed me once more." Voldemort hissed.

"_I am sorry My Lord. It won't happen again," Malfoy was kneeling on the ground in front of the Dark Lord, obviously knowing what was coming._

"_I know it won't. _Crucio!_" yelled Voldemort. When Malfoy's screams died down, he lay there panting. "Do not fail me again, Lucius." With that warning Voldemort walked away, leaving the man gasping for breath._

………………………….

Snape stilled. Was that a scream? It was brief, only a sudden shout, but it was there. Quickly he traveled the distance between himself and the edge of the forest to find the source and was mildly surprised at what he saw.

Potter lay there on the grass, his body writhing as if under a curse. Snape dropped the plants he'd gathered and strode over to the young boy and knelt beside him. "Potter." No response. He just continued as before, obviously in a great deal of pain. Now that he was closer, Snape could see that the famous scar was glowing red. "Potter!" Snape repeated, more urgently. Again there was no response. "Damn it Potter! Wake up!" he yelled into his ear. This wasn't good.

…….………………….

Harry shot up at once at the voice. His entire body still felt as though flames were engulfing in from the inside out. He gasped in pain, clutching his robes tightly.

……………………….

Snape watched as Potter sat up, still in a great deal of pain. It looked as though the boy was undergoing the Crutacious curse ad fighting against the will to cry out. Quickly Snape reached his hand into his robe and pulled out a small bottle containing a brilliant green potion that was shimmering. He held it u to Potter's mouth and ordered, "Drink." He began to pour the potion down the boy's throat and he choked on it, but swallowed.

Snape watched as the boy slowly calmed and his breathing became more regular. His pained eyes, full of gratitude, briefly met those of his professor. "Thank you, Sir," the boy whispered, and then looked away.

……………………….

Harry was unable to focus on anything but the pain and when he felt a liquid in his mouth he began to choke on it, but managed to swallow it. Immediately the effects of the curse began to diminish. It felt as though the liquid had been water putting out the fire within him.

Slowly he became more aware of his surroundings. Below him he felt grass and remembered coming out here. He then felt a presence beside him and looked up into the concerned eyes of his professor. Concern? Where did that come from? "Thank you, Sir," he managed to say before breaking eye contact.

They sat there for a few moments—Snape watching Harry, Harry watching the grass while idly playing with a dead leaf next to him.

…………………………

As Snape studied the boy, he began to notice things he'd previously overlooked. Albus was right, the boy was strong, stronger than he'd realized. When the boy had been asleep, his body had taken over and had been writhing from the curse but as soon as he had woken, his mind had been in control and he tried to hide his torture. Snape doubted that the curse had gotten easier to handle, which meant that Potter had been controlling himself. Controlling himself while under the Crutacious? That was not an easy task. True, Snape was able to do so, but that had come with years of practice, and he normally didn't do so anyways because that would only result in the strengthening of the curse until he did scream. Albus was correct, this boy was definitely unique.

"Can you stand?" Snape asked Potter, trying to keep his voice even, but Harry jumped a bit regardless.

The boy nodded a little, then immediately stopped, as if the small movement had made him dizzy. "I think so, Sir," he replied quietly.

Snape stood up and watched as Potter tried to follow suit, failing. He was still very weak; the potion he had given him had only temporarily prevented him from feeling pain and Snape hoped that it would last longer than the effects of the curse would have, otherwise the pain would return. One thing that Snape had never been able to deal with was a child in pain. He found it revolting what the Death Eaters did to adults, but when they did those same things to children… it made him want to throw up. Nobody should have to feel that pain, especially not children, even if they were his most despised student.

Potter finally managed to stand but still looked unsteady. "Come." Snape said, trying not to be concerned about Potter's fragility. He began to walk towards the castle. He noticed as Potter took a slow step, then another, then another, then tripped and began to fall. Snape's immediately reaction was to turn around and catch him.

…………………….

Harry cautiously stood up and started to follow Snape to the castle. After a few steps, he tripped over his own foot and began to fall when an arm reached out to catch him.

Snape's quick reactions were not quick enough however and when Harry fell only his head brushed the arm. As it did so, a jolt of pain was sent through Harry's forehead and he let out a scream in pain.

…………………………

Snape watched, shocked, as the boy screamed in pain. Had the potion worn off already? Then he realized that the Dark Mark on his forearm was exposed. Potter's scar must have touched it when he fell, causing the pain. He knelt beside the gasping boy.

………………………….

A/N: So anyways, this is it for now. I wrote most of it earlier, then I left and when I got home I came to this sort-of stopping point. Hope you all like it!

Thank you to everybody who reviewed. I'm so glad that somebody besides me likes my story! I've been trying to find a story like this to read, but after a while of not being able to locate one, I figured, 'What the heck, I'll write it.' So here it be.

So goodnight all and have a great day.

As always, PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. Alone Together

A/N: Hi everybody! I'm so sorry that I kind of disappeared from here for a while. Summer school started so I've become lazy again.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed… it really means a lot to me.

Shadowsfriend- you make a very good point… good observation. I'll fix that this chapter. Please let me know if I have any other conflicting things in my story, I don't actually proofread these, so thx.

Now I know that Snape's behavior will be kind of weird in this chapter, but hopefully it will be explained. I am convinced that his hard exterior is mostly a façade and he's really a nice guy.

Now onto the story…

…………………………..

Snape watched, shocked, as the boy screamed in pain. Had the potion worn off already? Then he realized that the Dark Mark on his forearm was exposed. Potter's scar must have touched it when he fell, causing the pain. He knelt beside the gasping boy.

……………………………

What was happening? Had the touching of his Dark Mark and Potter's scar actually caused that much pain for the boy? A million questions raced through Snape's mind as he watched the child on the ground slowly quieting as the pain decreased.

…………………………..

'What the hell? Where had that pain come from?' Harry thought, as he became conscience again of the world around him, finally able to think through the pain. He opened his eyes to see the Professor kneeling by him; an expression of curiosity and… something Harry couldn't quite place was crossing his face.

……………………………..

"Potter?" Snape began cautiously, unsure of what the boy's reaction would be.

"Yes, Sir?" The boy answered almost too quietly to be heard.

As odd as it felt to ask this, he needed to know. "Are you alright?" Snape forced himself to inquire.

Potter looked surprised at the question, but after only a slight pause he nodded, "Yes, Sir. I think so."

"Your 'thinking so' didn't turn out too well last time." Snape said annoyed. The boy said nothing. Then another thought occurred to the Potions master. "I was under the impression that you were told to stay within the castle walls, were you not?" He questioned. Again there was no response. After a minute of silence and realizing that the boy had no plans of speaking in the near future, Snape stood and made to leave. "Alright then, I will simply go and inform the Headmaster of this and I am sure that he will—"

…………………

As he listened to Snape talking Harry felt a sudden feeling of dread. He had forgotten about that rule; he'd been too upset and worried to think clearly. What would Dumbledore do? He'd made it very clear that Harry was, under no condition, allowed to leave the castle. Of course he hadn't told Harry why, but he had been adamant about it.

"No!" Harry suddenly said to both of their surprise.

"Excuse me, Potter?" Snape said menacingly.

Damn, why hadn't he thought of that before now? "Um, Sir," he began, "Please don't tell him," he said desperately, "I don't want him to think that I'm not listening to him—"

"Isn't that precisely what you were doing, Mr. Potter?" Snape said

"Well, yes. But…" Harry couldn't think of any way of convincing this man not to tell Dumbledore. He sighed in resignation.

………………….

Odd how desperately the boy didn't want Albus to hear of this. He decided to let it go for now.

He tried the same question as before, "Do you think you can walk?" The boy paused, as if trying to find the answer himself, and then slowly nodded. "Alright, come with me." He waited for Potter to stand and steady himself before turning to leave, slowing his pace from his usual near-jog.

As they neared the steps of the castle Snape glanced back at his follower and noticed a thoughtful expression on his face. After a few more steps the boy spoke up. "Sir, what was that potion?"

Snape thought back to the pain-stalling potion he'd given the boy. "It is called the _Dolormora_ Potion. It is used to suspend pain." He answered, a little pleased to know that Potter was actually thinking for once.

"Oh. But I thought that there was no prevention for the _Crutacious_ curse." He asked sounding confused.

Snape sighed. "Pay attention, Potter. It does not prevent the curse, it merely suspends the pain in a way." He looked back and saw that he still looked confused and nearly sighed again. "Essentially what it does is temporarily disables the nerves in one's body that feel pain. For example if somebody were to break their arm they would be in immense pain, and if they were to take the potion they wouldn't feel the pain for the duration of its effect. However once the potion wears off, the pain will return full-force." He explained. The one thing Snape had always been was a scholar, first and foremost. Though only Albus knew it, he loved to impart his knowledge into others, which was one of the reasons he had accepted the teaching job.

He heard the footsteps behind him cease and he followed suit, turning around. They were already inside the castle and nearing the Potions classroom. "Wait, so the pain is going to come back?" Potter asked alarmed.

"Yes." Snape stated simply. Potter looked frightened so he decided to continue. "Though not as strong as before. The degree of pain will be the same as it would have been at that time had you not taken the potion," he tried to think of a simpler way of stating it, "It is as if you merely skipped the pain you would have felt during that time."

Potter still looked a little scared but nodded. "Sir, what is going on? Why is this happening to me?" His fright bled into his voice.

Snape paused. "Come with me." He said as he turned. He walked into his classroom and noticed that the Headmaster was standing there. "Albus," he greeted him.

"Ah, Severus. There you are. Mr. Potter, this is a surprise." He said as the boy walked into the room.

"Hello Sir," he said quietly.

"There has been a new development," Snape answered the question Albus had asked with his gaze. Snape walked to his office and opened the door, waiting for Albus to enter.

"Stay here Harry," he said and walked into the stonewalled office.

…………………….

As the door closed on the two men, Harry collapsed into the chair next to him, exhausted from the day's events. He still didn't have any answers, though it seemed as though Snape had been close to telling him.

He was so tired. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in… well he couldn't remember when the last time was. Between nightmares about Voldemort, Sirius's death, and now this pain sleep hadn't been very restful.

Harry started as the door opened slightly and he could see Dumbledore standing with his hand on the door handle through the crack. He glanced at his watch and realized that nearly ten minutes had gone by. "Do as you must, Severus." The Headmaster then walked into the classroom and sat at Snape's desk, looking at Harry. He held his gaze for a moment, and then began to speak. "Professor Snape has informed me of your recent happenings. I'm afraid that I am not going to be here in the upcoming days as there is a matter that I need to attend to outside of the school. While I am gone Professor Snape is in charge of the school and of you."

Harry was about to protest to that before he moved on.

"During this time I expect for you to mind him as you would me and to speak with him about your nightmares and Harry," his voice became more friendly, "Please, do try to get along. As of ten minutes from now, you two will be the only living people remaining in the castle and I do not want to come back to find that you have ripped each others' heads off. Promise me you will try?" Dumbledore asked and Harry nodded, knowing he didn't have any other option.

"Alright, Sir. I'll try."

Dumbledore beamed and stood. "Good. In case of an emergency, Professor Snape does have ways of contacting me, but only in an extreme emergency." Snape's office door walked out and he stalked out, looking sour.

"Good afternoon, Albus." He nodded at the Headmaster.

He nodded back. "Severus, Harry." And with that he left, leaving Snape and Harry alone. Harry wondered about Dumbledore's last words in the office; what must Snape do? He hoped he would find out.

Snape sat down at his desk and looked lost in thought and Harry was unsure of what to do. A thought occurred to him and he decided to risk asking. "If the potion suspends pain, then why could I feel the pain when my scar… and your arm…" he trailed off, not looking at the professor.

After a few minutes of silence Harry gave up and stood and started for the door. "I don't know." Snape said flatly. Well that response was expected to say the least.

"Excuse me Sir?" Harry asked, unsure if he had misheard him.

Snape looked up and met Harry's eye with an almost blank expression, but Harry thought that his eyes looked… defeated? "I said I do not know, Mr. Potter," he said with a tint of malice, then his tone turned flat again, "It shouldn't have happened." Well wasn't that great? Harry thought sarcastically, not even Snape could figure out what was wrong with him. "How would you rate the pain form your earlier nightmare?" Snape asked suddenly.

Harry thought, "Maybe a five or six." It was hard to put the pain on a points scale.

Snape nodded, looked at some papers on his desk, and said, "I will see you tomorrow Potter," making it clear that he was dismissed.

"Sir?" Harry questioned, unsure of what tomorrow was. Snape looked up and held his gaze again for a moment. Suddenly realization dawned on him. "Oh. You mean that I will have another nightmare tonight." He said. Snape nodded matter-of-factly. "But Sir, isn't there any way to stop it?" He asked a little desperate. How could he keep going to bed, knowing he would face nights like this over and over again?

Snape sighed and Harry noticed that he looked unnaturally tired. "As of yet there is no way to cure it." He said.

Harry was growing more upset as time went by. "There has to be something I can do! I can't just- how can I just-" His voice dropped to a whisper as he dropped his eyes to the table in front of him, "It's not fair."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, the only thing that might prevent it is a dreamless sleep potion…" He noticed the boy's hopeful face and almost began to feel sorry for him before stopping that feeling. "And the potion is highly addictive and if used too often your dependence on it will not allow you to sleep without it." Noticing the still hopeful face he added, "And we cannot do that."

Harry's face fell. "Well, tonight isn't 'often,' it's only one night." He said quietly. He didn't think he could make it through another nightmare. Why did his life have to be like this? What did he ever do to anyone?

Snape sighed once again. "Unfortunately you will need the potion more at a later date." Harry knew what he was saying, the pain would get worse and if he used it now, he wouldn't be able to use it then.

Harry again sat in the chair by Snape's desk. "When do you think I'll feel the full effects of the curse?" He asked quietly.

"It is impossible to tell. Hopefully you never will, but at the rate the pain is escalating, that isn't very likely. I'd hope for a few days at most." His tone reminded Harry of the doctors on shows he used to hear his aunt watching when they told their patients that they only had a short time left to live. A few days? In only a few days he would be feeling the entire _Crutacious_ curse nightly?

"Alright. Good night, Sir." Harry said resolutely.

"Come see me in the morning." The demand wasn't as harsh as Snape's demands normally were. Harry nodded and left.

He was scared. His life was so messed up; everything bad always seemed to happen to him. At least Snape wasn't being so vicious towards him, which he supposed was good, except perhaps he might be being nicer out of pity for what he knew would come. Considering this was probably the case, Snape's lack of hostility worried Harry even more.

As he lay down in his bed, Harry wondered if it would be possible to not sleep at all; no sleep meant no nightmares. But even as he considered it, his body pulled him into much needed sleep, even though it was far from restful.

…………………..

One thing Snape hated feeling was uninformed. He had spent the past month doing nothing but researching Potter's case, with the occasional Death Eater meeting in between. Yet even after all of his work, he still had no clue how to help the boy. As odd as it may have seemed to anybody else, Snape severely wished that he could end the pain he was in and prevent the pain he would later endure.

He felt as if he were failing: he was failing Albus, he was failing Potter, and he was failing the entire light side. They were, sometimes unknowingly, depending on him and he couldn't do anything to help. He had already read every book from his private selection and from the library and a few others he had picked up in Knockturn Alley and he still had no answers.

He laid his head on his hand as he sat at his desk, trying to think of _anything_ that he could do.

A sharp pain in his forearm made him rise, change quickly, and rush to the edge of the grounds. He worried about leaving the castle unattended, but Albus had told him not to worry about it, as the wards would hold when he left.

He apparated to a dark forest on the outskirts of a town and joined the circle of masked faces surrounding the Dark Lord. _Oh no._ Snape thought as he realized why they were there. This was a muggle town and they undoubtedly were about to torture and kill every person in it. This could not be good for the Potter boy.

…………………..

Unheard screams filled the Gryffindor tower that night.

……………………….

Snape rushed back to the castle around 6 a.m. after a night of watching dozens of muggles being slaughtered. Luckily, he had convinced Voldemort long ago that the killing of others somehow tainted the magical powers needed in the brewing of potions. After many rounds of his favorite curse, Voldemort had finally believed him so now he only had to watch, rather than participate.

…………………….

As he entered the castle he rushed down to his office, changed out of the bloodstained robes and then proceeded to the Gryffindor Tower, wishing he had thought to supply Potter with a Dreamless Sleep Potion before he had left for the meeting.

He gave the password, went through the portrait hole, then climbing the stairs to the boys dormitory. As he entered the room that presumably was Potter's (as the signs on the door read the years) he stopped in horror at what he saw.

…………………………

A/N: Sorry, I think this is shorter than usual, but I tried to write as best I could. I wrote most of it, then stopped for a couple days, then couldn't really continue, and believe me, my writing is no good when I am forcing myself to write. I did write a bit more than this, but I wasn't finding a stopping point there, so I ended it here.

I don't really like this chapter; honestly, it's slow, and kind of boring. I'm sorry if you felt that way too. Well, as always, PLEASE REVIEW. I'll try to be quicker about posting the next chapter.

-Me


	4. Pain

A/N: Hi everybody! I'm back! I am sorry this has taken so long, but my computer died a while ago and so I couldn't even turn it on and the first half of this chapter was still on there, so I was waiting until my computer would work again. I have now given up on this dream. My computer is long dead. So I don't really remember what I already wrote or where this story was going, but I am now going to pretend that I do. Enjoy!

………………………

He gave the password, went through the portrait hole, then climbing the stairs to the boys dormitory. As he entered the room that presumably was Potter's (as the signs on the door read the years) he stopped in horror at what he saw.

…………………………

The only thing Harry was aware of was complete and total pain encompassing his entire body. It felt as though his insides were melting, burning, grinding, and crushing all at once. Even after he was pretty sure he'd woken up the pain continued in full force.

……………………..

As he stood there looking into the room, Snape was horrified by what he was looking at. Potter was screaming himself hoarse, his hands clutching the twisted and tangled bed sheets around him as if they were a lifeline. He made sudden, jerking movements as though jolts of pain were coursing through his body, which they undoubtedly were. What Snape noticed most though, was the look of complete torment and anguish on the boy's face.

He walked over to the bed and wondered how to wake the boy. Was he even asleep? "Potter," he said loudly, but was drowned out by the constant screaming. "Potter!" he yelled even louder. The boy made no indication that he'd heard him.

How could this be happening? It definitely shouldn't be escalating this fast. Then again, as Albus had said, he had nothing to compare this to. Damn. He should have just provided the boy with that potion.

Unable to think of anything else he could do, he took the boy's shoulders in his hands and shook him slightly, yelling his name into his ear.

Potter sat up immediately and stopped screaming, though it was clear that he was still in pain, as his eyes were still tightly closed and the grip on the sheets hadn't loosened. His jaw was also tightly clenched and Snape absently hoped that he wasn't biting his tongue off.

After a minute or so of the boy not saying or doing anything else, Snape quietly asked, "Can you hear me?" A brief nod. "Do you know where you are?" Might as well make sure the boy was coherent. Another nod. "Can you speak?" Yet another nod; ironically the boy kept silent. "Potter, look at me." At first there was no response, but then he gave a shake of his head. "That wasn't a request," he stated icily.

The boy slowly opened his eyes, but remained looking at the bed for a moment before quickly glancing at Snape, then looking away and closing his eyes again.

In the short moment that the boy's gaze met his own, Snape saw eyes that were far too old to be that of a teenage boy. He saw in them fear, pain, and tears-all of which were to be expected- but he also saw resolve, as if the boy knew that this was to be his life, every night full of pain. He was too young for this.

Carefully making his voice much gentler, Snape spoke again. "Potter, look at me," while he waited for those eyes to meet his, he took in the boy's quick, shallow breathing. Finally his eyes lifted to those of the Potions Master. "Has the pain subsided at all?" he asked quietly.

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to, no doubt from all of his previous screaming. Snape conjured a glass of water and held it out for him. The boy paused before unclenching his hand and unsteadily taking the glass. The glass spilled a little as he drank, but when he was done he whispered, "thank you, sir."

Snape took the glass and set it on the bedside table. "Is the pain gone yet?"

"No," came the quiet response.

"Are you alright?" That was probably a stupid question, but it seemed like something the boy should answer. He noticed that the boy's hand was clenched into a fist once again, his fingernails likely digging into his palm.

"I don't know, sir."

Snape really wanted to give the boy some more of the _Dolormora_ potion, but he knew it was addicting. He mentally battled with himself for a minute or so before giving in. "Has the pain lessened any?"

"No, sir."

Snape sighed then quickly removed a small bottle and handed it to the boy. He quickly drank the potion then sighed in obvious relief and lay back against his pillow and closed his eyes. "Thank you, sir." He seemed to be drifting back to sleep, but then sat up suddenly and opened his eyes, as if he didn't want to; Snape realized that he was probably scared to.

Silently, Snape assessed the situation. Albus had told him that he was allowed to tell Potter what he knew about what was happening if he felt the situation required it. The boy really should know so he could mentally prepare himself for what lay ahead. But was this the right time to tell him, so soon after another nightmare? But then, the nightmares weren't likely to go away.

Suddenly Snape realized that, even though he had believed the boy should know, he had never really thought about being the one to tell him. After this, he didn't particularly want to be the one. He sighed slightly. But he was the only other person in the castle right now other than the boy, and Albus wouldn't be returning for a while and Potter needed to be informed sooner than that.

But if he did have to tell him, he didn't have to tell him in this room, surrounded by hideous Gryffindor colors. "Can you walk?"

A pause. "Yes, sir. I think so."

Snape stepped back from the boy in order to allow the boy to get up. The process was a slow one, requiring a lot of energy from the boy. The potion, while suspending the pain, did not suspend the weakness that the pain left behind. After a few moments, the boy was standing and looked relatively steady on his feet. He reached for his glasses then slipped them onto his face. "Come with me." Snape quietly ordered.

He began to walk slowly towards the door, making sure the boy was following, and then continued through the common room, out the portrait hole, and down through the castle towards the dungeons. As they walked, Snape considered the best way of telling the boy. He'd never been one to sugarcoat the truth, but the truth was so awful that… no. The boy needed to know the truth. Would the boy believe him? He thought for a moment. Yes, he had no choice but to believe him, especially after this last nightmare.

A noise from behind him brought his mind back to the dark hallway. He turned around and saw the boy about twenty feet back, leaning against the wall as if it were the only thing holding him up. He was breathing heavily and looked as if he were trying to catch his breath. Could the potion have worn off already? Surely not. But it didn't look as if he were in pain; he looked thoroughly exhausted.

Snape sighed, realizing that his fast pace had probably, once again, worn him out. Odd how the boy hadn't said anything throughout the entire walk through the castle. He walked over to him while asking a little sarcastically, "Are you alright?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." Regardless of his words, the boy's heavy breathing continued as the wall supported him.

Snape sighed. "No, you're not." He took the boy's arm in his hand to support him a little. "Come on, we're almost there." He began to walk again towards his office, beginning to regret his decision to bring the boy down there even if all of his notes upon this subject were in his desk. The closer they came to the office, the more Snape began to feel the boy's weight-light as that was- being supported by his arm. They finally reached the classroom and walked through it to the attached office. When they entered, Snape quickly led the boy to a chair across from his desk and he gratefully sat down. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly, still breathing too hard.

Snape walked around his desk and sat in his chair as he watched the teenager across from him begin to slow his breathing down.

………………………

Harry suddenly heard a voice through the pain and felt himself being shaken. That was enough to bring him back to consciousness. He heard the voice from far away asking questions. Was it talking to him? It must be. Could he hear him? Well, yes, of course. That was a silly question. He nodded. Did he know where he was? Again, what a weird question. He was in his bed in the tower, so he nodded again. Could he speak? Of course he could, why wouldn't he be able to?

"Potter, look at me."

I know that voice. Damn it. What was Snape doing here? He didn't want that git to see him like this. So he shook his head. He didn't want to see the man's taunting eyes. He could almost hear him mocking him for being weak. _Poor Potter, a shame he's not strong enough to handle this. Too much like his father for his own good._ Oh, but then that voice again. Finally he gave in and only quickly glanced at the man, the pain still soaring through him. But he could handle this. This was what his life was, wasn't it? Full of pain.

After a little more time went by when his professor thankfully said nothing, his voice came once again.

"Potter, look at me." The voice, while demanding, wasn't as harsh as it had been before, so Harry decided to obey. The world was a bit blurry because he didn't have his glasses on, but he figured that was ok. "Has the pain subsided at all?" Even without his glasses, Harry could see that the man's face lacked it's usual hateful glare, so he figured it couldn't hurt to answer the question, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he discovered his throat was to dry to do so. He'd probably been screaming during his nightmare. Damn. Snape had probably heard that.

He realized that Snape was holding out a glass of water for him. That was strange. He slowly released his hold on the bed sheets and took the glass. He hadn't even been aware of himself holding onto the sheets. He drank the water gratefully and couldn't remember water tasting so good in a long time. "Thank you, sir," he whispered once his throat felt better. The glass was then gone from his hand.

"Is the pain gone yet?" asked the voice.

Ha, like it would ever be gone, he thought. "No," he said instead.

"Are you alright?"

That was a strange question coming from Snape, but then again, hadn't he recently asked him the same thing? Was he alright? The pain was still definitely there, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He settled for an honest answer. "I don't know, sir."

The man didn't say anything for a few moments, but then reluctantly asked if the pain had subsided any.

"No, sir," he replied. It felt as though the pain would never go away; it still burned him from the inside. He saw Snape pull a small bottle out of his robes and hand it to him, so he took it and drank it quickly, hoping it was the same potion as before. After a moment the pain filling his body dissolved and he relaxed into his pillow. "Thank you, sir."

He felt sleep pulling him deeper into the bed when he suddenly sat up. He couldn't go to sleep. Sleep meant nightmares, and nightmares meant pain. After a little while of struggling to stay awake, Snape spoke again.

"Can you walk?"

No, probably not. "Yes, sir. I think so." He then tried to stand up from his bed. He still felt incredibly weak but he at last was able to stand. He slipped his glasses onto his face, figuring it wouldn't be good to run into a wall with Snape there.

"Come with me."

'Where?' his mind asked, but he followed anyways. At last, he figured out that they were going down to the dungeons. That made sense. But it was such a long walk! The father they went, the more tired he became and the farther he walked behind Snape. The man had an annoyingly fast pace. It wasn't so bad at first, but Harry was sure that the man sped up as they went.

As they reached the dungeons, Harry's strength began to give out. No! They were so close! The thought of appearing so weak that he couldn't even walk through the castle in front of Snape horrified him. But then his strength of will and his strength of body crashed into one another as he gasped and fell against the wall in exhaustion. He was so tired.

Then Snape was standing in front of him. "Are you alright?" he asked almost mockingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry lied.

A pause. "No, you're not." Was he really that easy to see through? He felt a hand grip his arm to support him. That was definitely strange, but it helped, a lot. They made their way down to Snape's office where he was finally able to sit down. That felt good. "Thank you, sir."

Harry sat there, trying to slow his breathing down and relax. He was barely aware of the man across from him staring at him until he quietly said, "It's time you know the truth."

……………………………

A/N: Hahahahaha! Yes, I am going to leave it there. I'm once again very sorry about not being able to update recently, but now I give you Chapter 4. Chapter 5 should be coming soon. I'll probably start working on it today, but I wanted to at least update a little.

Oh, QUESTION: I am just a curious person, so I am wondering where my readers are from. I'm from Northern California. Please review and tell me!

Have a wonderful day everybody!


	5. Truths

A/N: Hey, guess what? I'm back! After about a year, I have finally returned to try to continue with this story. I apologize for the long long long absence, but it was my senior year of high school and I had no time. Sorry! But here goes….

…………

Harry sat there, trying to slow his breathing down and relax. He was barely aware of the man across from him staring at him until he quietly said, "It's time you know the truth."

…………….

But how to explain? It was such an awful truth to tell. "As I'm sure you've gathered by now," he began, "this problem isn't merely going to go away. We cannot be sure as to what exactly is causing this, but our best theory is that something happened when the prophecy broke last month." Snape could tell that the boy was listening intently. "The magic of prophecies has not been and cannot be studied to much extent. The headmaster and I have discussed the matter and we believe that, as the prophecy is what caused the Dark Lord to kill your parents and then unwittingly create the link between him and yourself, it might itself have contained a bond that connected the two of you. If this is true, then the prophecy's demise might be what caused this latest development in your dreams."

The boy looked confused and Snape waited for the questions he knew would come. "But how could that be? How can I stop it? Could I fix the prophecy? It is my fault that it broke," the boy said desperately.

Normally the idiocy of the boy at thinking that something so magically complex as a prophecy could be repaired by something so simple as a _reparo_ charm would irk the man, but Snape decided to let it go because he knew the boy was only grasping at straws in his desperation. "No, it cannot be fixed, but that is about all we know about the subject. There is good reason why the prophecies were contained in the Department of Mystery- nobody knows for sure how they work.

"But how could the breaking of a crystal ball cause me to feel that much pain in my dreams?"

"We do not know," Snape said evenly.

"Well how can we stop it?"

"We haven't figured that out."

"Isn't there anything I can do?"

Snape sighed. "I don't know."

"Well then what the bloody hell good are you?" Harry yelled, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth in the office. "You say you're going to tell me the truth and then you just sit there saying 'I don't know, I don't know.' This is the top-secret truth that Dumbledore couldn't tell me? That you _think_ it might _possibly_ have _something_ to do with the prophecy? What the hell good is that? You don't know why this is happening, how to stop it… you don't know anything! Who gives a damn about 'all you have been doing to try to find a way to help me' when you can't even give me any answers! How the hell am I supposed to live like this?" Harry nearly collapsed against the back of the chair he had previously occupied, breathing heavily and obviously exhausted from the yelling and pacing.

"Sit," Snape ordered. "Don't overexert yourself, you'll need your energy." Harry nearly fell into the chair as Snape continued in hostel tones. "As I am still your professor, you will treat me as such and cease speaking like that to me immediately. Also, I would kindly appreciate that you not listen into any more of my private conversation in the future." He watched as the boy's face fell at realizing that he'd essentially admitted to eavesdropping by quoting Dumbledore's earlier words.

"Sorry, Sir," the boy whispered quietly.

Snape nodded and continued in a softer tone. "It is true that we know little about why this is happening, which has proven to be a great difficulty in finding a solution to the problem, but we do know the potential outcomes of it." He sighed again. "As I am sure you know by now, prolonged exposure to the _Cruciatus_ can cause irreversible damage, as in the case of Mr. Longbottom's parents, which is definitely a concern. While you have managed to tolerate your dreams rather well so far, I fear that you will not be able to be this strong forever."

Snape hoped that the boy had not picked up on the two subtle compliments. It appeared he hadn't, for the boy was merely sitting across from him staring into nothingness with a look of fright mixed with that same resignation Snape has seen earlier in his eyes.

"Another concern is that the Dark Lord may find out," he saw the boy look up in surprise. "I have no reason to believe that he is aware of this connection, as he has not become anymore vicious than usual. I am certain that if he knew that you felt every _Cruciatus_ curse he cast he would never cease cursing people until he knew that you'd been driven crazy, which is why it is crucial that nobody find out. It is only Dumbledore, you, and myself that are aware of these circumstances. You have not told your friends, I assume?"

The boy shook his head then said sarcastically, "What would I tell them? That I am now experiencing excruciating pain in my dreams that I cannot explain and that it's getting worse?"

"I figured as much. Please continue keeping them in the dark, as it is prudent that as few people know about this as possible. Especially do not mention anything of importance through owl mail; we can never be sure what could fall into the wrong hands."

"Yes, Sir." The boy said quietly. He seemed to be considering something before saying, "But Sir, I can't exactly hide from everybody that I'm screaming myself hoarse in the middle of the night. And I can't just not sleep for a few months."

Snape sighed. "Hopefully I will have figured out a cure before school begins."

"And if not?"

"Then we will deal with that when the time comes," he replied quietly.

The boy sighed. "Well what am I supposed to do for now? Just go to sleep knowing what to expect? Can't I just take Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

"As I've told you before, the potion is addicting-"

"So what?" the boy exclaimed. "So what if it is? From the sounds of it, this little _problem_ isn't going to go away any time soon, so who cares if I do get addicted to a potion, considering the alternative?"

Snape sighed, the boy did have a point, but still… "Knowingly getting addicted to a potion is incredibly foolish. It would likely affect you for your entire life, causing irreparable damage to your psyche." He paused before continuing, "However I am going to supply you with the potion on occasion, at least until I can figure out a better way." He pulled a small bottle full of liquid out of a desk drawer and handed it across to the boy. "Go back to your dormitory now and get some rest. This should be enough to ensure that you sleep well through the morning."

The boy rose to leave. "Thank you, Sir." As he walked out of the office, much steadier on his feet than when he came down, Snape drew his wand and whispered a spell at the boy's back.

……………………..

A/N: Oooooo! What did Snape do? Sorry this is kind of short, but I don't think I will get another chance soon to write (Ugh! Work and Calculus homework!), so something is better than nothing, right?

Sorry if there are any bad mistakes in here, feel free to let me know so I can correct them.

So please review and let me know what you think! Thank you to everybody who reviewed before and to everyone who told me where they are from! I'm easily amused.

Random Question: Have you ever seen a ghost? (Answer in review please! Amuse me?)


	6. Books

A/N: Hey all! I'm back! So I am going to try to get you all another chapter today. This is the first time in a long time that I don't have work, or school, or homework (that can't be put off until later), or anything else to do! It's so weird, but I figured I'd take advantage of it! (It's either this or wash my car.) So onto the story:

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The boy rose to leave. "Thank you, Sir." As he walked out of the office, much steadier on his feet than when he came down, Snape drew his wand and whispered a spell at the boy's back.

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It had been a few weeks since their talk in Snape's office, and Harry wasn't doing well. Every night when he fell asleep he had those awful dreams and he always woke up screaming in pain. This was nothing like when it was just his scar hurting—which it still was. He was lucky if he got more than half an hour of sleep each night, and even that wasn't restful because he knew what was coming: Death Eater meetings where Voldemort tortured his servants and attacks on small villages.

Harry had made another discovery as well—_Crucio_ wasn't the only curse he felt during these times, it was just the most often used. One night when there was an especially vicious attack on a town somewhere near the coast (Harry could hear the ocean nearby) Voldemort cast _Incendio_ upon a young girl while she was still alive. Harry woke up with not only his insides burning from the _Cruciatus_ curse, but his skin also felt deeply scorched, though there were no visible marks.

He tried to fill his time at the castle by doing homework or sometimes wandering the halls, but his sleep-deprived body wouldn't allow him to do much and most of the time when he sat down to do homework he wound up falling into a light sleep, just to be woken up moments later in searing pain. One time he woke up from one of his nightmares and found himself in an old, abandoned corridor. He then remembered taking a walk and realized he must have fallen asleep in his exhaustion and after that he didn't wander too far from the Gryffindor common room.

His mind was also being affected by the lack of sleep and constant pain. He'd often lose track of what he'd been thinking about, or just stop thinking altogether and stare into space. His vision often got blurry when he tried to read one of his textbooks and he could feel his eyes threatening to close.

Dumbledore still hadn't returned to the castle and Harry vaguely wondered where he was and if he was all right. As far as Harry knew, he and Snape were still the only ones in the castle, but he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. The truth was, Harry didn't feel like pretending he was okay around people and being social and they wouldn't understand why he was so tired, so he figured it was all for the best. And Snape wasn't that bad either. He did seem genuinely concerned about Harry's condition and every time Harry went down to his office (which wasn't often because it was an incredibly long walk) he was pouring over numerous old, leather-bound books, most of which were in different languages Harry didn't recognize.

Snape wasn't being his usual callous self either; he was willing to let Harry just sit there across the desk from him and catch his breath from the walk. Every five or six days he would give Harry a small bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion, the only thing, Harry thought, that was keeping him sane. Every time he visited, Harry asked his professor if he'd figured anything out yet and Snape always answered in the same way, "Not as of yet, but I will let you know when I do." His tone wasn't hostile and he never yelled at Harry for being impatient, which Harry at first thought was a good thing. But he was then reminded again of the doctor shows his aunt watched when everybody was really nice to the patients who had no hope of getting better.

During one of these times in Snape's office, Harry got bored of the silence they were sitting in so he decided to bring up something he'd been wondering about. "Sir?" he spoke aloud.

The man across the desk looked up and met his eyes without saying anything, obviously waiting for him to continue.

"Um, I was wondering something… Uh, in the Potions homework, you wanted an essay about a potion that makes people grow hair really fast all over their body, but I can't find it anywhere in the Potions book and I was wondering-"

"You're doing homework?" Snape asked in surprise.

"Well, trying to anyway. There's nothing else to do. So anyway, about the potion—I don't think-"

"Potter, there are much more important things to attend to than trying to impart the delicate knowledge of potion making into your brain. Do not waste your time with that right now." With that, he returned to reading the book on his desk.

Through his surprise at his professor referring to learning about potions a waste of his time, Harry said, "But Sir, I'm not doing anything. If I don't do my homework, what am I supposed to do, just sit around? I have to do something! Can I help you?"

Not looking up from the book, Snape responded, "Not unless you can fluently read Latin or Greek, no. I have already read every book in English on the subject."

Harry sighed and rose to leave. "Alright then, goodbye, Sir."

Snape also sighed and stood up from his chair and Harry could hear his bones creaking in protest, as if he hadn't risen from that chair in a long time. He walked to a bookshelf behind his desk, quickly scanned the titles, and removed a thick, dusty book. He handed it to the boy and said, "Here, this will have what you need for the assignment."

Harry took it from him, confused. "But Sir, why would you assign an essay if the information isn't even in the textbook?"

"It is not a crime to study, Mr. Potter. I'm sure Ms. Granger will have no problem with this assignment. The answers can be found if one is determined enough." He sat back down in his chair and said, "Good day, Mr. Potter."

Harry didn't feel the need to argue that many students didn't have access to such materials over the summer so he quietly said, "Thanks," and left the office.

Once he finally made his way back up to the tower (going down was always much easier than going up) he collapsed into an armchair by the fire and opened the book Snape had given him, which seemed to have gotten heavier with every step he'd taken. As Snape had said, there was an entire section devoted to hair-growth potions and Harry quickly found what he needed for the assignment. Too bad Potions hadn't been this easy before.

As he sat there, he could feel himself drifting off as sleep threatening to pull him into its painful grasp.

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A/N: Sorry, I know it's even shorter than the last chapter, but I have lost my concentration. I do, however, know where I am going in the next chapter. In fact, I have 2 more scenes in my mind… whereas normally I kind of make it up as I go. This chapter was a little boring, but it is a transition chapter of sorts, so the next one should be better.

Oh, oops! Did I forget to tell you all what spell Snape cast on Harry in the last chapter? How silly of me! Evil grin It should come into play in the next chapter though. You can wait a little longer.

Oh, and as always if there are any really bad mistake, please let me know so I can fix them!

Adios!


	7. Emotions

A/N: Hey all! Sorry it has taken so long, but life's been so busy. But at last I have the next chapter. It's only been about a month and a half since the last chapter, that's not too bad! This one is going to be kind of emotional and Snape will be acting differently than we are used to, but keep an open mind and consider this all from his point of view. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize I do not own.

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Once he finally made his way back up to the tower (going down was always much easier than going up) he collapsed into an armchair by the fire and opened the book Snape had given him, which seemed to have gotten heavier with every step he'd taken. As Snape had said, there was an entire section devoted to hair-growth potions and Harry quickly found what he needed for the assignment. Too bad Potions hadn't been this easy before.

As he sat there, he could feel himself drifting off as sleep threatening to pull him into its painful grasp.

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It had been about two weeks since Snape had given Harry the potions book to use on his assignment and, while the book had all the information he needed, he had just today finished the essay. It normally wouldn't have taken him that long but every time he tried to write the exhaustion caught up with him and his arm seemed to weigh five times more than it should.

If he had calculated correctly, it had been over a month since Harry had started having those awful dreams and the effects of it were apparent. He hadn't slept for longer than one unrestful hour any night, except for when Snape would give him the Dreamless Sleep Potion. But that wasn't often—certainly not often enough to make much difference. Harry could tell that it was affecting his mind and mood. He had been grouchy lately, which was understandable considering the lack of sleep, and had even snapped at Snape a couple of times, and he knew he had to be mental to do that. Luckily, Snape usually just ignored him when he did that.

Harry didn't think that he would have ever believed it, but Snape was actually being slightly above bearable and, at times, even an enjoyable presence. There were times when he would let Harry just sit in the comfortable chair in his office staring into space (like he was now) and, if Harry started to doze off, he would reach across the desk and shake him a little to keep him from falling into a painful sleep. It was almost as if Snape was watching out for him like a parent would, or maybe a godparent.

As Harry thought of this his heart began to ache and it had nothing to do with Voldemort, well in a way it did, but not like his other pains. He missed Sirius something awful. Every so often he would daydream about what it would be like if Sirius were still around. He could be here with him through all of this. While Snape was bearable and at times likeable, Harry loved Sirius. While in his mind Harry knew that Sirius couldn't miraculously find a way to cure this, his heart told him that Sirius could do anything. He could take the pain away; he could make everything better. At least Harry wouldn't feel so alone. Sirius would be there for him every time he woke up in pain. He would hold him and tell him everything would be all right.

Harry knew he was foolish for wishing such things. Sirius was gone and he was never coming back. Besides, he was nearly of age and he shouldn't need someone to hold him. But, damn it, he'd never had someone like that before, and he never would. It was his fault Sirius had died; he had gotten him killed.

Suddenly Harry realized that tears were sliding down his face and he remembered where he was. He quickly tried to wipe them away without Snape noticing, but it was silly to think anything would go unnoticed by him. He looked up from a thick, leather-bound book that appeared to have blood splashed across the cover and met Harry's gaze before the boy quickly looked away.

_Damn it!_ Harry thought. He'd seen him crying. Shit, that was just one more thing for his list of subjects to torment Harry on. Poor Harry Potter can't even sit in silence without crying. However what came out of his professor's mouth shocked the boy.

"You want to talk about it?" Snape asked quietly and without malice. Harry shook his head. How could he talk about missing his godfather to this man? He hated Sirius and he'd probably never missed anybody in his entire life. The man shrugged. "You should."

His comment surprised and confused Harry. "Sir?" he asked, hoping the man would elaborate.

Snape sighed. "You should talk about it, whatever it is that you are thinking about. It isn't good for the soul to have so much bottled up inside you. It's not healthy."

"But, Sir…" Harry replied, sounding skeptical. He expected Harry to talk to _him_? Apparently Snape knew what he'd been was thinking.

The man sighed again. "I know we haven't always had the best of relationships, but as it is still the summer and none of your irritating little friends are here—and even when they are you won't be able to tell them everything—it's just you and me here. Like it or not, Harry," he paused for a few seconds, "I'm all you've got."

For a few minutes they just stared into each other's eyes across the desk, both lost in their own thoughts and wondering what the other was thinking.

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Did he really just say that? Surely Harry was hearing things. It sounded as if Snape had just invited him to talk to him about how he was feeling. Disturbing as that thought was, Snape was right in that he _was_ all Harry had. Nobody else would be able to understand what he was going through. There really was nobody but Snape. And he had called him Harry. What was that about? Snape had never called him Harry! It was always Potter or Mr. Potter, or any of the rude names he'd called him over the years. He'd never used his first name before, especially not in a kind tone. Did that mean he was serious? Could Harry really confide in him?

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As much as he hated to do it, Snape knew that he had to let the boy open up to him. What the boy was facing was enormous and he didn't have anybody else to talk to. Snape knew was it was like to be alone—he'd been alone most of his life. He had Dumbledore around to lean on at times, but Snape hated to show weakness. He'd noticed that the boy was actually a lot like himself. He always tried to hide his weaknesses as well, even if that meant a long walk through the castle that drained all of the energy from him. And his eyes… Snape had realized a few weeks ago why the boy's eyes had seemed so familiar, and not just because they were the green of Lily's eyes. They were his own eyes. Lily's green mixed with his sorrow, pain, and resignation that nobody, especially not a boy so young, should have to endure. He had purposely used the boy's first name hoping that it would get the boy to talk. It felt weird talking to him like a man, rather than a student, a boy. He wasn't that anymore; his childhood had ended long ago, possibly before it even began. But would the boy talk to him?

----------------

They continued to stare into each other's eyes, neither one of them wanting to break the silence, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Finally Harry spoke. _I guess I can trust him. I guess I don't have a choice,_ he thought.

"I miss him." He stated, still holding the gaze. _That sounds so pathetic; Snape is going to think you're just a little crybaby now,_ he thought. He looked down at a string hanging from his pants that he'd started playing with self-consciously. He wasn't sure when he started caring so much what the man thought, but at this moment it seemed very important.

"Your godfather?" Snape questioned, though he sounded as if he already knew where Harry was going with this. Harry nodded.

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Snape sighed. He was bad at this. He'd never been the comforting type, but the boy needed him to be. As Snape thought about it, the boy did have an awful life. He'd lost both his parents, and then lost his godfather who had become like a father to him and he probably blamed himself for that. And in between he'd had to fight the most powerful dark wizard of the time on multiple occasions and deal with the newspapers reporting on every little thing he did. And then there was the constant threat on his life and now this—dealing with nightly excruciating pain with no friends to talk to, only his most despised professor. He was really alone and, though Snape hated it, he needed him.

Snape got up and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to Harry, but he couldn't think of what to do or say. He'd never done this before and everything he'd heard other people say to comfort people all seemed lame and inaccurate. 'Everything is going to be alright' definitely wasn't true and the boy knew it.

"I wish he could be here," the boy whispered, still looking down at his hand playing with the string on his leg.

Snape sighed and placed his hand atop the boy's to still it. "I know," he said quietly. The boy looked up and their eyes met again. Tears were leaking from the corner of his eyes, but the boy didn't seem to care anymore if he saw that.

The boy began to cry harder and looked down. He shook his head slightly. "It's too much. It's all just too much sometimes. I can't deal with it. It's just too much. I don't—I cant—" The boy started breathing faster as he was rambling and Snape worried that he was starting to hyperventilate. "I can't do it. I can't live like this. It's too much." His body started shaking and Snape could tell he wasn't thinking clearly.

"Harry," Snape called, trying to snap him out of it, but the boy didn't seem to hear him. His breathing became very labored and his heart looked like it was going to beat right out of his chest. Snape realized that the boy was having some sort of panic attack.

Harry started gasping for breath. "I can't—breathe," he panted.

Snape put his arm around the boy's small shoulders and pulled him close in a sort of one-armed hug. Normally the thought of hugging someone would have repulsed Snape, but this felt right somehow. The armrests on the chair were in the way so Snape quickly pulled his wand and vanished them, allowing the boy to lay more against the man's chest. "Come one, Harry. Relax, breathe with me," Snape whispered to him.

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Harry could feel a strong arm pulling him gently against the man. It woke him from the sort of daze he'd been in and his mind began to clear. Merlin! Was Snape hugging him? His body initially tensed in response, but then he relaxed. Human contact felt good. Aside from the occasional pat on the shoulder from Dumbledore when he'd been here, a goodbye hug from Hermione at the train station had been the last time he'd… felt that somebody cared about him?

That when Harry realized the truth: Snape really did care about him. He cared more than just as a problem that needed fixing and more than just as Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world. With that realization he leaned further into Snape's chest, letting him hold all of his weight. He could trust this man; he knew he could.

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Snape felt the weight of the boy—light as that was—fall against him as the boy relaxed. For a moment the boy looked at peace and he began to drift off to sleep, still leaning against the man. Snape sighed and smiled slightly. Maybe that was all that the boy needed. He didn't need comforting, hollow words; he just needed somebody to be there for him.

Snape sat there for a few minutes as the boy slept, wondering if he would ever be able to find a way to ensure the boy could sleep peacefully again forever. Even as he began to consider it he could feel the boy tense against him and a moment later he let out a gasp of pain then clenched his jaw. A moment later he let out a scream.

Quickly, Snape began to shake the boy in attempt to wake him up. "Harry!" he called to him, but it didn't seem the boy could hear him, so he shook him harder and called to him louder. After four tries, he finally managed to wake him up and he sat there with his fists balled tight as spasms went through his body from the pain.

Snape reached out and touched his shoulder and the boy jerked away from him automatically, but his eyes and fists remained clenched. Snape put his hand on his shoulder again, this time ignoring the jerking away and pulled him back against his chest and held him there until the spasms eventually stopped and his fists unclenched. The boy's head rested on his professor's shoulder.

Eventually the boy spoke. "I hate my life," he rasped, sounding defeated.

"I know, Harry. I know," Snape whispered into his ear. They sat there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. Snape wished there was something more he could do for the boy, anything at all, but he knew there wasn't.

"I don't think it took as long for the pain to wear off this time." Harry said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"The pain is gone already?" Snape questioned. That was odd, normally there was residual pain that lasted for hours after the boy woke up, and it had only been around half an hour.

"Well, not completely, but mostly. It felt like the nightmare was shorter than usual though, so that might be why. Did you wake me up during it?" Harry asked, sounding thoughtful.

"Of course I did. I wasn't going to let you just suffer," Snape replied. Did the boy really think that he wouldn't try to stop it?

"Maybe that's the answer, then." Harry said, sounding like he was drifting into sleep again.

"The answer?" Snape asked. What was the boy talking about?

"Yeah, the answer. Every time I start the scream just wake me up," he answered, sounding more asleep than awake. "Sir? Can I have the potion tonight? Please?"

"Yes, of course," Snape replied as he _accioed_ it from his desk drawer so that he wouldn't have to get up and disturb the boy. He handed it to Harry and he drank it down in two big gulps. He set the bottle down on the desk and sighed as he fell into a deep, restful sleep, still leaning against Snape.

Snape looked at the clock on the wall; it was only 3 pm but he supposed it would be easy for the boy to lose track of time when he never slept. Snape sighed, realizing he needed to get back to work pouring over the texts. He pulled his wand again and conjured a cot in the corner of his office then stood, cradling the boy's body against his chest and laid him down on it. He then conjured a blanket and draped it over the boy, who was sleeping peacefully for once.

He looked down at the boy and thought about how strong he was. He had endured all of this with such vigor; it was incredible for a boy to do. Most adults would have already been driven mad by it, but he kept moving on. True, the sleep deprivation was getting to him, which had probably led to the breakdown he'd had earlier, but overall he was handling the situation remarkably. Most people wouldn't even be able to handle the lack of sleep, let alone the added nightly torture. It was true that Snape had slept very little in the past months as well, spending all of his time either reading volumes or at Death Eater meetings, but he had trained his body to require little sleep. Harry had just been suddenly thrown into this situation.

Snape sighed once again and returned to his chair behind his desk to continue the research that was getting him nowhere. Maybe the boy did have a point and the best thing to do for now was to just wake him up every time he started having a nightmare. But that would require him to stay down here in the dungeons full time so he'd never fall asleep away from Snape. Also, that wouldn't help restore the energy his body so badly needed.

Snape turned the page on the book he'd been reading an hour ago and as he began to read, a ghost of a smile played at his lips. If it worked it would be a temporary solution at best, but at least it was something. He continued on, scouring the pages for every last detail.

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A/N: All right, that's it for now. Good News: I made a list of what I was going to put in this chapter, but I didn't use any of it, so I know what the next chapter will be already. Bad News: I don't know when I'll find time to write again, hopefully over the Thanksgiving break. No school, but I still have to work. We shall see…

Happy Turkey Day all!

-PenguinLuvr


	8. Hope and Plans

A/N: Hey, it's only been a little over two weeks since the last chapter! Yay for me! I'm getting better. And hopefully I'll start the next chapter today. No promises, though.

Oh, I probably should have mentioned, but you've probably figured it out already… when there's a line of dashes it's either a change of scene or just switching to another point of view.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize I do not own.

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Snape turned the page on the book he'd been reading an hour ago and as he began to read, a ghost of a smile played at his lips. If it worked it would be a temporary solution at best, but at least it was something. He continued on, scouring the pages for every last detail.

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Snape jumped slightly as the boy across the room stirred a few hours later. That was odd; the potion should not wear off until many hours later than this. Slowly Snape stood up, his bones creaking, and went to stand over the boy that had been sleeping peacefully while his professor searched for a way to cure him.

At first, Snape had thought he had found the answer in one of the books, or at least a temporary solution, but as he'd read further he realized that the complications were vast and he was not sure it was a risk he was willing to take—not yet anyways.

As he watched the young boy he saw him tense and knelt beside him; this couldn't be good. When the boy let out a gasp of pain Snape knew what he had to do; he just hoped it would be in time. He shook the boy's shoulders and called to him, "Harry!" The boy immediately opened his eyes and, though he was breathing quickly, he didn't appear to be in a lot of pain.

The boy looked up at him and smiled, "Thank you, Sir." Snape merely nodded in response.

"Apparently you were correct," he said to the boy, but he only got a confused expression in return so Snape elaborated. "You were correct about waking you up before the dream gets too far, it seems to have been effective. Are you in any pain right now?"

"No, not bad anyway. How long was I asleep? I'm still so tired it feels like I just drifted off."

"You did." Snape paused. "You have only been asleep approximately three hours." He waited as that knowledge sunk into the boy's brain.

"Wait, but—but I took the potion. It always lets me sleep much longer than that. Why wouldn't it—oh crap, does this mean the potion won't work for me any longer? But then I'll never get any sleep!" He looked dizzy at the thought of it. He looked pleadingly at his professor. "Can't you do something to make it work again?"

"I somehow doubt that the potion is in any way faulty. Your body has probably built up a resistance to it. I believe I told you at one point that this was a possibility and that—"

"But you said that wouldn't happen for a long time!"

"I said," Snape corrected him, "that _hopefully_ it would not happen for a long time. I did not believe at first that the pain would have escalated as rapidly as it did either, but it obviously did."

"But what now?" He asked desperately.

Snape stared at the boy and considered telling him of what he had read in the past three hours. Surely the boy would agree to it out of sheer desperation, but it was incredibly risky. He decided against it and changed the subject and answered the boy's previous question, even though it was not the answer the boy had hoped for. "Now, you eat. You haven't been eating enough to feed a rabbit, let alone a growing boy." _And you look awful._ Snape mentally added.

"I can't eat. Nothing will stay down." The boy complained as he closed his eyes and rolled on his side, his back now to Snape.

"You have been throwing up? And you did not think to tell me this?" Snape replied harshly. How long had this been going on? Why had the idiot boy not told him? He softened his tone after seeing the boy jump slightly at his previous one. "How long has this been going on?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, a few weeks?"

"So it has been that long since you have had a decent meal?" A nod confirmed this. Shit, Dumbledore would kill him if he came back to find his favorite student starving to death. Besides, it probably was not helping the boy's weakness at all. Idiot boy, why hadn't he told him about this? "Come, sit up. It is time you eat." Snape stood and walked over to his desk and opened a drawer.

The boy rolled over to look at him. "Sir, I told you, I can't—"

"Your inability to sleep I cannot control," Snape interrupted, "but I can control this." He handed Harry, who had joined him by his desk, a small bottle. "It is a stomach relaxer; it should allow you to eat normally for the time being." With a wave of his wand all the books and papers moved away from the side of the desk where the boy now sat and with another wave food appeared on plates in front of him. "Drink the potion then eat. I will return shortly." While Snape did not particularly like the idea of leaving the boy alone in his office (and a few months ago he never would have dreamed of doing such a thing), he didn't want to stand there hovering, watching the boy eat. Besides, it would do him well to stretch his legs.

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Harry looked at the food in front of him, which looked nauseating. Sighing, he drank the potion from the bottle. Ironically the rotten licorice taste mixed with garlic was in itself a little nauseating. However after swallowing it the food on the desk did appear more appetizing. Harry had the suspicion that Snape had only left to give him some privacy, which he appreciated, though he was shocked at being left alone in the professor's office. On the other hand, he was too weak and exhausted to do much of anything, so maybe that's why Snape was trusting him.

He began to eat the meal in front of him, which consisted of salad, soup, and some bread, and it was probably for the best, considering his stomach had grown accustomed to not eating anything, that it was such a light meal.

When he was done eating, his stomach happy for the first time in what seemed like forever, Harry considered going back to his dormitory to take a shower. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd done so and he could still feel the tearstains on his cheeks from earlier. However he didn't want to just leave the office without letting Snape know, or without thanking him.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Snape walked into the office at that very moment. Harry quickly told him that he was going upstairs to clean up, which Snape agreed was a good idea, and as he was walking out the door he stopped. "Thank you, Sir." He said to his professor. The man merely nodded and went back to reading.

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Harry got out of the shower, feeling better than he had in a while: he was clean, fed, in little pain, and happy with the way he and Snape were getting along.

He put on some warm clothes because, despite it being summer, the castle was often cold. The dungeons were especially cold because there were no windows for sunlight to come in through and Harry figured he would go down there at some point in the near future. He sat down on his bed to put his socks on and felt himself being pulled once again into sleep. He fought against it but it was a losing battle and he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

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Harry woke up screaming a short time later. His body felt the familiar grinding/crushing/burning feeling that it felt every time he fell asleep. He felt a hand on his shoulder and automatically jerked away.

A familiar voice made him look up into eyes he knew he could trust. "Hey, Kiddo."

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed. How good it was to see this man he loved.

"Come here, Harry." The older man held out his arms, but as Harry reached forward to pull his godfather into a hug, he vanished.

Harry lost his balance and nearly fell to the floor. Then he sat there, staring at the place where his godfather had been not a moment before. Had he really just imagined that? Sirius was gone, and he wasn't coming back—Harry knew that. But still… he had seemed so real. _I must be going crazy._ Harry thought, his mind feeling numb.

To distract himself he went to the end of his bed and started to pull his transfiguration textbook out of his trunk. As he did so his pocketknife, which had been resting on the book, fell and landed on his charms book. Harry picked it up and looked at it.

_I wonder where Sirius is now._ Harry thought. _He's got to be somewhere better than this. I wonder if he misses me. I wish I could see him again._

You can… 

Another voice drifted into his thoughts, from where, Harry didn't know. But it stuck.

He could. There had to be something after this life, people couldn't just die. But where did they go. When he died, would he see Sirius again? There was no guarantee, but then while he was alive there was a guarantee that he wouldn't see Sirius.

You're thinking crazy, Harry. You have so much to live for; you can't start thinking that way. His brain battled with his emotions.

True, he had all his friends to think about. Ron and Hermione would be heartbroken if he were to leave.

They'll move on.

And he also had Dumbledore to think about, and now Snape. How would they feel after spending so much time on him- Dumbledore training him to defeat Voldemort someday, and Snape trying to keep him sane long enough to do so. He'd let the whole wizarding world down… They were all counting on him.

At that moment, another spasm went through his body, a remnant of his earlier nightmare. As his body jerked, the knife blade he'd been fingering cut a small incision into his finger. Harry thought it would hurt, but compared to the pain he'd been feeling lately, it wasn't actually that bad.

It probably wouldn't hurt that bad to make a deeper cut either. One slash of the wrist and it would all be over. You'd be free. No more pain, no more suffering. No more trying to be everybody's savior. No more… no more… no more…

Harry fingered the blade again. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to end it. What was the point of living anyway? To live in pain for the rest of his life? There was no way he could even come close to defeating Voldemort in the state he was in. And Snape wasn't getting anywhere with the research; he would have told him if he'd found a cure. There was no hope of that. What was he supposed to do? Just keep living the way he had been for the past couple months, enduring nightly excruciating pain until eventually something killed him.

Harry wondered what would take him first: the pain driving him mad, the lack of food starving him to death, or the lack of sleep sapping out all of his energy until he could do nothing but lie there. At least this way there would be no wondering. He could be in charge of his life for once. He could control his own fate. He could be free. No more…

Harry placed the blade against his wrist and let it rest there. Could he really do this, just end it all right now?

Before he had another moment to think, the door burst open and Snape ran in, breathing heavily as if he had just run here from the dungeons.

Harry jumped back and tried to hide the knife in the folds of his comforter, which of course made him look guiltier. "Sir! I- um…"

"Give me that." Snape said, his voice cool and relatively calm, though there was an underlying anger in his tone. He held out his hand to Harry.

Shit! How the hell did Snape know what he'd been thinking? Harry decided to play innocent. "Give you what?" He asked in the most innocuous voice he could muster. At a glare from the older man Harry continued. "Oh, this?" He held up the knife. He handed it over. "Alright. Why?" Harry tried his hardest to appear genuinely confused.

"You know why, Mr. Potter."

"No, I really don't. I was just—"

"Save it, Mr. Potter!" Snape snapped. "Do not play innocent with me, I know what you were going to do." The man's fury was almost tangible.

"How could you know anything?" Harry snapped back. It wasn't possible. Snape couldn't read minds like that, could he? Shit, what if he told Dumbledore? What would Dumbledore think of him?

"Because, Mr. Potter, I am not—as you obviously believe—ignorant and stupid. I placed a charm on you (A/N: see, I didn't forget about it!) a while ago that would let me know incase you started to seriously consider that being dead would be a better alternative to living."

Shit! He did know! "But Sir, how could you have known—"

Snap sighed and when he spoke Harry noticed that his tone had softened. "You are not the only one who has felt unbearable pain before, Harry. Granted, not many, if any, have felt it to the same degree you have." He sighed again and studied Harry's face, as if deciding whether or not to continue. After a pause, he did. "I have seen many kill themselves rather than face being tortured by the Dark Lord—his victims as well as his followers. Many Death Eaters have ended their life before the Dark Lord gets to them, knowing that even if He does keep them alive, the pain they will suffer first will not be worth it. I have seen parents kill their children when He enters their home so that they may go in peace rather than being tortured to death. They know what their children would go through at His hands." The calm way in which Snape said all this creeped Harry out.

"But how could they kill their own kids?" Harry asked, unable to fathom it.

Snape sighed and at first Harry didn't think he would answer, but then the man sat down on Harry's bed, met Harry's eye and spoke again. "Are you telling me that if the Dark Lord had Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley, or even young Miss Weasley, and you knew he would torture them to death and there was nothing you could do to rescue them, you would not want to at least save them from the pain, even if that meant killing them?"

"I- well, I—" He broke the eye contact. How could he answer that? What kind of question was that? What was Snape getting at anyway?

"I believe the original point I was trying to make was that I have seen people kill themselves to avoid pain before and, while you are undoubtedly much stronger than most of the Dark Lord's victims or any of his followers," He paused and waited until Harry looked up to meet his eye again, "you are still human, Harry."

"I just—" Harry tried to explain himself. "I wanted—" Harry suddenly felt ashamed at what he'd been thinking about doing and dropped his gaze again, unable to meet the man's knowing eyes.

"Harry, killing yourself is not the answer. For many of the Dark Lord's victims it may be, but not for you. They have no hope and—"

"And I do?" Harry almost yelled back at him. Was this man crazy? "I have no hope. This isn't going away and you're no closer to finding anything to help me. What's the point of living like this? I know I am supposed to defeat Voldemort someday, but I really don't think I can in this condition so I'm sorry, but I think the whole light side of the wizarding world is screwed."

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Snape sighed. He had to tell him what he had figured out. At least then the boy might think there was some hope. He had wanted to speak with Dumbledore about this idea first, but he had not yet returned and Snape didn't think they could wait any longer. The school year would begin in a matter of weeks. "There might be something I can do." He told the boy.

The boy just stared at him for a few moments. "What? What is it? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" The boy looked excited, yet angry.

"It is very risky, and there's a great chance that it will not work at all. Also, it will not fix your problem, it will merely allow your body to rejuvenate itself." The boy looked confused, so Snape continued. "Essentially I would put you into a coma-like state. During that time your body would be close to death. Your heartbeat would be minimal, as would your breathing. However during this time you would have no dreams and therefore feel no pain. It would be like a long sleep. When you would wake up you would be rested and have your energy back."

"Then let's do it!" The boy exclaimed. "How long would I be in the coma?"

Silly boy, he shouldn't agree to do anything before knowing all the facts. "It depends on your body. It would take however long until your body is rested enough to function normally. But you must understand the seriousness of this spell, Mr. Potter. It is not as simple as taking a dreamless sleep potion. There could be any number of complications. There is the chance that you would not wake up."

"What, you mean not wake up for a long time? That's okay, Hermione can take notes for me to catch up in classes." The boy's eagerness irked the professor.

"No, Mr. Potter. I mean that you might not wake up—ever. In addition to that, there's the chance that the spell could put you so close to death that you accidentally slip too far and actually die." Snape waited so the seriousness of the spell could sink in to the boy.

"I want to do it." Harry said determinedly after a brief pause.

"Harry, you must understand—"

"I know, Sir. I know it may kill me, but I can't live like this. There's only 22 days until school starts—"

"19." The man corrected him.

"Whatever. There's 19 days left. How am I supposed to pretend that everything is all right when even standing up is a draining activity? I know the dreams won't go away, but at least I'll be stronger to fight them. Sir, I want to do this." He emphasized the last sentence and Snape knew there was no talking him out of this.

"All right. Meet me in my office this evening. The sooner, the better."

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A/N: So there it is. I had most of it written a couple days after finishing the previous chapter, but then there was school and work. But I didn't work at all this weekend, which is really weird, so I decided to write and bake. Hope you all like this chapter. Now I am starting to get to the part of the story I really want to write.

Oh, and thank you to everybody who has reviewed, it really makes my day. And special thanks FrequencyQueen. She suggested hallucinations, which is why Harry saw Sirius. If anybody else has any good ideas, I would love to try to include them!

Please review!

-PenguinLuvr


	9. Her

A/N: So, bad news… I lost it! I had a little scrap of paper on which I wrote every idea that came to me for this story, quotes I think of that I want to incorporate, and random words… But it's gone! I don't know what happened to it. It was on my desk, then I sat down to write this and I can't find it.  I remember the basic outline of where I'm going, but all the little things that I wrote down cuz I knew I'd forget them, I forgot! Crap. Sad… But anyway, I will write this chapter without my little paper and try to do the best I can, though this is very weird for me. My little white paper is my comfort blanket, it tells me what to do, and it's gone! Yes, I am aware that I am very pathetic, but I'm okay with that.

Anywho, on with the show!

Few weeks later I wrote part of it then, and now I shall continue. And good news! I found my paper! Cleaning one's room can be useful.

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognize I do not own.

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"Whatever. There's 19 days left. How am I supposed to pretend that everything is all right when even standing up is a draining activity? I know the dreams won't go away, but at least I'll be stronger to fight them. Sir, I want to do this." He emphasized the last sentence and Snape knew there was no talking him out of this.

"All right. Meet me in my office this evening. The sooner, the better."

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"Are you quite sure that you are ready for this?" Snape asked for the fourth time since Harry had come down to his office.

"Yes, I'm sure." Harry replied once again—and he was. He had spent the time since "the talk" in his dormitory preparing. He had packed up all of his stuff to make it appear as if he had never been there in case he didn't awaken by the time school started. He'd then shrunk it and taken it with him to the dungeons.

He had also taken the time to write a few letters, just in case this didn't turn out favorably. He had written one to each Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Dumbledore, explaining why he had made this decision and for those who knew nothing of the situation, he explained it briefly to them, figuring that if he d—well, if something happened, it wouldn't hurt that they knew the truth. Finally, he had written on to Snape, thanking him for everything he had done for Harry. Writing the letters felt oddly like writing a suicide note. Thinking that had made Harry even more ashamed at what he had almost done earlier.

"Sir?" Snape looked up from the section in the book about this spell that he had so far reread twice since Harry came to his office. "Sir, I was wondering if—" Harry tried to find the right words to ask him this, but finally he gave up. "Sir, if I die, will you give them these letters?" He held them out for his Professor.

At first Harry thought the man might refuse, but he just nodded, took them and slipped them into a pocket in his cloak. "All right, so let us go over this again, there will be a monitoring spell on you the whole time that will alert me if there are any changes. When I have to leave the grounds I will transfer the spell to alert Dumbledore…."

Harry stopped paying complete attention. This was the third time he'd been told this. The man looked nervous; maybe he repeated himself when he got nervous. There would also be a spell that automatically fed him, kept him hydrated, kept his muscles from weakening too much, and took care of other needs… He would be in a bed in a little room off of Snape's office so he could monitor him… Snape would tell Dumbledore how to get in—the wall appeared to be solid—in case something happened to Snape before Harry awoke… Snape went on explaining the details.

After the first time Snape had told him this, Harry realized that he had only left one thing unmentioned, so he asked him. What would happen to him if he never woke up? How long would they wait? Would they just leave him there for years, lying in a room adjacent to Snape's office? Unfortunately, Snape's only reply was, "I do not know. I am merely hoping that I never have to make such a decision."

Snape again asked him if he was ready. Harry nodded and they went into the adjacent room and Harry lay down in the bed. "Thank you, Sir." He said as Snape raised his wand.

The man nodded. "Hopefully, you shall see me again soon, Harry." He then raised his wand and began murmuring in Latin. Harry couldn't tell if it was separate words or not because they it seemed to be just a string of letters and sounds. He felt himself drifting off into sleep and for the first time in many weeks; he welcomed it.

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As he finished the spell and dropped his wand, Snape sighed. _Please, Merlin, let this work._ He cast the monitoring spell and the nourishment spell then sat back in the chair by the bedside. So far, everything appeared to be working as it should. His heart rate was about 5, which is where it ought to have been.

He reached into his pocket and took out the letters the boy had handed him. As expected, he had written to Granger and the Weasleys, and one to Dumbledore as well. When he flipped to the last envelope he was, however, surprised to see his own name written there. What had the boy written to him? He was tempted to read it now, but he knew it was wrong. He was not meant to see it unless the boy died. A more talented wizard would have likely put a charm on it to prevent one from reading it until they died, but the boy undoubtedly didn't know any such charm. He put the letters back into his pocket.

He sat there for a while, thinking about what he had just done to the boy. Through the spell he had put the boy an inch away from death. The boy had asked an important question earlier; what _would_ happen if he never woke up? At what point could they give up on him? The book said that on occasion people didn't wake until years later. Snape had thought the spell would be good for the boy to catch up on rest from the past couple months, but what about from before the dreams began? When he came to the castle he had already looked exhausted. According to Dumbledore, the boy had always had nightmares and Black dying a few months ago probably didn't help things. Surely the boy would need a lot of rest to make up for lost time.

Snape jerked slightly as realization dawned on him. He never should have done this. The boy could take months or years to become fully rested. He would miss out on that much of his life; he could miss the rest of his education at Hogwarts. If he slept for a few years, the wizarding world could be completely different. By that time Voldemort might be defeated, or—Merlin forbid—might have defeated the light side. What was he thinking doing this to the boy?

He had been so desperate to find a way to help the boy that he'd jumped at the first solution. What if he found a cure tomorrow? It would be too late; the boy would already be in the coma and there was no way to wake him up. But the boy had wanted to do it, had been desperate in fact. Snape took the letter back out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands a few times. If he did wake up, he never had to know that he'd read it. Snape battled with himself for a few more minutes before finally giving in and carefully opening the envelope. He read:

Dear Professor Snape,

If you are reading this, then the spell didn't work and I am already gone. I just wanted to let you know that I am okay with it and I don't blame you for this at all, so please don't let Ron or Hermione do so either. I'm sure they will try but I told them in their letters that this was entirely my decision.

I just wanted to thank you. You have done so much for me over the years and, even though we never exactly got along, I do appreciate what you've done. _The next part was scratched out but Snape was able to make out the words. _Even my first year here when you hated me, I mean, not that you don't hate me now. I don't think you do, but—. _The rest of the writing was more legible. _Ever since I first came to Hogwarts you have been looking out for me, even when I didn't know it. I'm sorry that it took us until now to come to an understanding. Well, not really understanding, more like, well—. You know, the other letters were much easier to write. I think I will stop rambling now.

Hopefully you will never have to read this and I am wasting my time by writing it, but if not… well at least I'm not in pain any longer.

Thank you again for everything, Sir.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Snape looked up from the letter and sighed. It greatly resembled the boy's potions essays: a bunch of rambling and crossed out sentences then a quick conclusion.

The professor sat there for many hours, watching over the boy so close to death, hating more than anything the feeling of helplessness he felt.

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A few weeks later found Snape in the same position by the boy's side. He had taken to bringing his work into the small room, grading papers while he waited for any change. He had continued his research to find a cure for the boy for _when_ he woke up but time had become limited when the students had arrived, filling the once-silent halls with laughter and smiles at seeing their friends after the long summer.

As Snape had sat at the staff table during the opening feast he couldn't help but notice that two of the students were not joining in the hurrahs and while he watched the two of them scan the room frantically for their friend his mind went back to the boy lying in the dungeons. As soon as the feast was over he watched as the Weasley boy led his classmates up to the Gryffindor tower while the Granger girl nearly ran towards Dumbledore's office in search of answers.

The story they were told was that Harry had fallen ill during the summer and would be away for a while in a safe place to recuperate. Snape thought it had fooled Mr. Weasley, but the Granger girl had undoubtedly seen through the lie. As long as she had not discussed the matter with anyone they would have been all right. However as the days passed Snape could see that she was openly questioning the validity of the story. Stupid girl, she should know when to keep her mouth shut. He looked at his watch and realized that the girl would be here any moment for the detention he had given her for answering too many questions in class. He had hoped Dumbledore would speak to her about keeping quiet about her suspicions, but as he obviously had not Snape figured he would set her straight. It would not do for more people to question where Harry was.

As he stalked into the classroom from his office the girl entered from across the classroom and quietly walked to the front. "Come." He ordered the girl as he walked back towards his office. He paused in the doorway and pulled his wand. He quickly placed silencing and warding charms on the classroom and, once they had both sat down in his office he warded it as well.

The girl looked confused and a little frightened at this. "Sir? What are—" Her voice shook a little.

"Quiet." Snape interrupted her. He figured the best way to tell her was directly. "Now, Miss Granger, I must insist that you terminate your inquiries into Mr. Potter's location or status."

"You know where he is, Sir? Where is he? What's wrong with him? Why can't we contact him? He could at least send us a letter. I realize that owl mail would be highly dangerous, but somebody must be with him that could get letters to or from him." She sounded desperate, but she must be incredibly foolish to think that if Dumbledore had not given her any answers, he would. "It isn't true, is it?" She asked. "The whole story about him getting ill? If it were true then you wouldn't care if I announced my suspicions to the entire Great Hall during dinnertime. But everybody is supposed to think that and since you are worried that people might start thinking otherwise, it must not be true. I was right all along!" She paused to take a couple breaths and then continued. "Please, Sir. What's wrong with him? Is he all right?" While during the rest of her soliloquy she had sounded analytical and calculating, at the end all Snape could see in her was worry.

Harry was lucky to have a friend like her that cared so much for him that she would practically demand answers from her most despised professor. Part of him almost wanted to tell her that the friend she was so concerned about was lying merely three meters away. Snape sighed.

"Please, Sir," the girl began, "Please, just tell me if he's alright." She looked on the verge of tears as her eyes pleaded with him to say that her friend was fine.

Snape considered his options. He should tell the girl that Harry was all right and she need not worry about him. That would be the most strategic move and a few months ago he wouldn't have hesitated to do just that. Something held him back though and he dropped his eyes to the desk. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he had begun to care about the boy over the past months and lying to his friend about his condition just seemed, well, wrong. _What is the matter with me?_ Snape thought. _This should not be that hard! Tell her that he is fine and get on with your night!_ Snape opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.

"Oh, God." The girl whispered. "He's not." Snape looked up and noticed there were tears streaming down her face. "He's dead, isn't he?" She continued in a whisper. Snape had been slightly suspicious that she had been playing him from the start—she had talked so loudly and openly about her suspicions from the start, as if asking somebody to tell her to shut up. And once he had done so, she confirmed that the story was false. This could all be part of her plan. However as Snape looked at her face he knew the anguish he saw there was not an act. She truly thought her friend was dead.

Snape sighed again. Even if this was all part of her plan, he couldn't let her think Harry was dead. "No, Ms. Granger, he is not."

"But he's dying, isn't he? Otherwise you wouldn't look so grim." _Damn girl, she was too observant. The truth was, Harry was close to dying. Even if he awoke, he would be in the same position as before—in constant, energy-sucking pain. He wasn't any closer to finding a solution and he had already read all of the books he could find on the subject and—_

"Sir, is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?" she cried.

…and maybe what he needed was new eyes looking at the task. Perhaps this was the solution. He hadn't seen any answers in the books, but maybe she would. Though he would never admit it, she had on occasion written in her essays something that Snape had never thought of before, whether it had been a new application for which a specific potion could be used or what would happen if a potion ingredient were substituted for another. On all of these occasions he had marked her down for speculating in an essay that was supposed to be factual, but he had always tested out her suggestions and they normally seemed to work. This had always irritated him to no end, but that type of thinking would be useful on a problem such as Harry's for which there was no precedent.

Dumbledore would kill him if he found out about this, but Snape didn't see any other way. Though he would never admit defeat, he had given up on finding a solution and was now only rereading the books to make himself feel like he was doing something useful—and to give Harry hope.

"Perhaps there is, Ms. Granger."

She looked stunned at his answer. "Really, Sir?" she asked.

"I make no promises, but I will allow you to try. However you will speak of it to nobody." Snape began.

"No, of course not. I swear I won't." She said eagerly.

"While I am sure your loyalty to Mr. Potter is undying, I am not concerned that you will accidentally let it slip in conversation with one of your classmates. I am thinking in the case of torture. Eventually the Dark Lord will find out that Mr. Potter is not in school and begin looking for him. If anyone begins to suspect that you know where he is, your life could be in danger, as well as Mr. Potters. The Dark Lord has ways on finding out information."

"I understand, what's the plan, Sir?" the girl asked bravely.

"I will place a charm on you that prohibits you from speaking of this to anyone except me. It is like the _fidelus _charm in a way."

"Alright, what do you need from me to do it?"

"Normally nothing, however in the case of the previously mentioned situation, the Dark Lord would undoubtedly realize you were under the charm and he has ways of tracing the charm to see whose wand cast it—"

"And that would lead back to you, which would get you killed as well as me. Can he tell who cast the spell or just the wand it came from?"

"Just the wand."

She pulled her wand out and held it out for him to take. As he took it she said, "Perfect, now he would only see that the spell came from my wand so he will have no idea who else knows about Harry."

_She really is a rather bright girl._ Snape thought as he raised the wand to the girl and began the charm.

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A/N: Sorry, I think this is shorter than other chapters. I dunno why, but this chapter wasn't working for me, normally they kind of write themselves, but this one took three tries to get it done. Sorry if it sucks, let me know if it does and I will try to fix it. And FYI, school started back up so now I will have even less time to write. But I am taking a Psychology class, so maybe that will help me to get into my characters' heads. I dunno. We shall see.

As always, PLEASE REVIEW! Seriously, it does make me very very very happy to know that there is someone reading this.

-PenguinLuvr


	10. Foolishness

A/N: OMG! I am back! Sorry for the long absence, but I'm having trouble finding time to sleep, let alone write something that isn't for school. I'd like to say that I'll be able to write more soon, but I won't lie to you: I probably won't. Life is just going to get even busier. So anywho, after a year of nothingness, here be a new chapter! Sorry it is so short!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own.

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She pulled her wand out and held it out for him to take. As he took it she said, "Perfect, now he would only see that the spell came from my wand so he will have no idea who else knows about Harry."

_She really is a rather bright girl._ Snape thought as he raised the wand to the girl and began the charm.

* * *

After Snape had explained the situation, he sat back and watched as the girl processed the information. He had carefully left out the part about the boy wanting to end his life. He figured that Harry would not want her to know about that. She sat there for a few minutes silently before asking, "Can I see him?" Snape got up and proceeded to the invisible door in the wall and opened it; he could feel her following behind him.

"Oh my!" she gasped, "Harry!" She ran and knelt next to him. "He looks awful, Sir. He looks so close to death."

"He is, Miss Granger." Snape couldn't see any reason to lie to her now. He went and stood behind her. "I have done everything I can think of, Miss Granger. I have read every book, tested every potion… I know you wish to help Mr. Potter, but I do not want you thinking that there is some miracle answer waiting to be found in a book somewhere—there is not."

She sniffed a little. "I know, Sir. There has undoubtedly been no other case like this, just like there has been no instance similar to Harry's scar. Their connection is unique." She sat silently for a minute before speaking again. "Why do these things always happen to Harry?"

Snape mentally sighed. He had been thinking the same thing as well. He wished he had an answer for that, but it seemed that recently he could not come up with a useful answer for anything. He hated feeling this useless—there was nothing he could do for the boy except watch him and hope that he woke up soon. But even then he would be waking up to face more pain. Snape did not honestly think that Granger would be able to help, but at this point it couldn't hurt for her to try. "You shall have full access to my library to research what you can and if I am not mistaken I believe you still have access to the restricted section of the library. However, do be careful—"

"That nobody sees what I am researching," she finished, "Yes, I know. I'll place charms on the books so the students will think that they are for other subjects, and I will keep them hidden from other teachers just in case they notice that they are charmed. Do you have any suggestions as to where I should start looking?"

Snape shook his head. "No, I have not found anything anywhere. Start wherever you wish, Miss Granger."

They stayed there for a while longer, Hermione kneeling next to the bed, Snape leaning against the cold, stone wall by the door. They both silently watched the boy lying on the bed; every so often his chest would rise and fall—the only evidence of life. Snape assumed the girl's head was swimming with book titles and subject areas that she planned to research. While he admired her dedication to her friend, Snape had little hope that she would find anything. After months of researching, his only foreseeable solution was to kill Voldemort, thus breaking the connection. Even though he knew that wouldn't be possible for him to do, he worried that when the Dark Lord was eventually killed, what would that do to the connection between Him and Harry? If the connection was so strong to make all this happen, what would happen if Voldemort died? Hopefully the connection would be broken… but nobody could know for sure. Months ago, he would have been glad to sacrifice the boy if that meant the end of the Dark Lord, but now he wasn't so sure.

Not that he would ever admit it aloud, he had grown to admire the young boy… no, young man. He had to find a way to save him, even if that meant enlisting the help of the Granger girl. It was a long shot, but it couldn't hurt, right?

* * *

Three weeks later found Hermione sitting cross-legged on her bed pouring over another large book with tiny print. Her eyes started to drift closed as she heard the faint chime of a distant clock tower, which startled her back awake. Four o'clock… only two hours until she had to get up to start the next school day.

She thought back to her first conversation with Snape. She had a feeling that he knew about her plan. She'd been careful though. She only voiced her concerns to a small group of Gryffindors when she knew that teachers were listening. She figured eventually one of them would crack and tell her to shut up; she just hadn't thought it would be Snape. However now she realized that, besides Dumbledore, he was the only one who knew the truth. She was surprised that he had confided in her, and also by the desperation she had seen in him, especially while they were in the room with Harry. He hadn't given her much hope, and Hermione figured that was because he probably didn't have any hope in him to give.

She could easily see how he had given up hope. For three weeks she had read any book she could find even remotely related to the subject. Many times she had stayed up reading all night while her dorm mates slept peacefully around her. But tonight would not be one of those nights, she decided as her eyes began to drift closed again. She put the book she'd been reading away with the usual charms placed on it, including an invisibility charm and a concealing charm, and laid back in bed. Her head had barely hit the pillow and she was asleep.

* * *

Hermione spent lunchtime in the restricted section of the library scanning titles of books. As this didn't seem to be very useful, she was tempted to just start at one end of the library and read her way to the other side. Annoyed that she wasn't able to find anything that looked helpful, she grabbed a random book off the shelf and read the title. It was a book about locking charms written in ancient Greek. _Well it can't hurt to read it,_ she thought as she placed concealing charms on it and slid it into her bag.

Hermione had found it difficult to focus in potions class ever since her talk with Snape. She couldn't help but think that her friend lay there, just beyond the wall, so close to death, so close—

"Well, Miss Granger?" Snape's sudden voice brought her back to the classroom. Apparently he had asked her something as everybody was looking at her as if expecting an answer.

"S-sorry, Sir. What was the question?" She asked quietly. She tried to avoid the shocked looks on every face around her. She could read their minds: _'Hermione wasn't paying attention?' 'She doesn't know the answer?'_

"Detention, Miss Granger. Tonight. For not paying attention in my class." Snape said sternly. Hermione wondered if this was just his way of meeting with her without making others suspicious. She lowered her eyes to the desk in front of her, embarrassed. She tried to look upset, but in reality she was looking forward to hopefully seeing Harry again tonight.

* * *

After all the students had left the classroom, Snape went into his office and, after applying the appropriate warding spells on his office door, he entered the room where Harry was sleeping. As he watched him slowly breathing, he couldn't help but wonder yet again if he had done the right thing. The boy had been so adamant about doing this, but in his desperation he probably would have agreed to having the giant squid bite off his leg if that would mean the nightmares would end.

Snape sat down in the chair next to the bed and checked on Harry's condition—still the same. There had been no change since he had first cast that damn spell upon him.

Snape thought back to the day that Dumbledore had returned to the castle, a few days before the students had all arrived. He had come immediately to Snape's office to check on Harry's situation.

"Ah Severus, how good to see you again. I am terribly sorry that I've been gone so long—much longer than intended. We thought we would have the issue resolved quickly, but then the giants and centaurs had their say and—oh, you know how it goes. I see the castle is still standing, I do hope that means that you and Harry got along well together?"

_At some point during this speech, Dumbledore had sat down in a chair on the other side of Snape's desk- the same one Harry usually sat in. Snape's mind was pulled to the boy on the other side of the wall. He had still not woken and Snape didn't know what sort of reaction to expect from the old man when he found out about Harry's current state._

"_So have you had any luck in discovering a cause, or better yet a cure for young Harry's situation?" He asked with a hopeful eye._

_Snape sighed. "Albus, you are not going to like what I have to tell you, but…" After warding the door of his office, Snape recounted the story of what had happened to the Headmaster. He did, out of respect for Harry, leave out the thoughts of suicide._

_As Snape finished the tale, he sat silently and waited for the man to react. For a moment they merely stared at each other until finally Dumbledore whispered, "You did what?" Clearly, he did not approve._

"_Albus, I understand that it is highly risky, but-"_

"_No, Severus, you do __not__ understand," the man said, his voice still low but above a whisper. "That is not a solution! That is barely even a temporary fix. I did not expect you to have cured him yet, but to do this? What were you thinking Severus? He could die! It's a miracle he has not died yet. From what you said, this spell is thousands of years old and probably hasn't been used in that many years. What if he never wakes? How could you have done something so foolish? I realize that living with the nightmares must have been difficult for the boy, but he could have dealt with it—"_

"_No, he could not, Albus. He is strong, much stronger than anyone I have ever met, but you seem to forget that he is human." The man's constant need to place Harry as something above human had always aggravated Snape, but now it irritated him to no end, but for a different reason. He had never thought that the boy deserved that, but now he knew the truth. While he certainly did deserve it, he did not want it, and it was too much to ask from him. "The human body can only be pushed so far before it snaps. He was desperate, Albus—"_

"_And he does not know what is best. He is a child, Severus, and you are the adult. You should never have told him about the spell. You should have known he would agree to anything."_

"_I did know that, Albus. But Harry is most certainly not a child. I do not believe he was ever a child. He has been forced to grow too fast, and that we cannot change. But we can respect that he is an adult, and therefore can make choices for himself." Snape sighed. He did not expect Dumbledore to agree with him, but he had not expected this either. "You did not see him, Albus. He was wasting away…I had to do _something.._."_

After Albus had left, Snape sat in the chair next to Harry's bed for a long time. It was difficult to hear Dumbledore say all those things aloud because they were the same things Snape had thought to himself every day since he had cast that spell. Was he foolish for attempting this? Had he given a death sentence to the boy-who-lived? He pulled out the letter Harry had written him and reread it in an attempt to reassure himself that he had done the correct thing. Snape could not remember a time when he had doubted himself this much. He had been sure he wanted to become a Death Eater, and then he was sure that he did not want to be anymore. But when it came to this… Snape just did not know what to think.

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A/N: Okay, so I know that's not a good place to end it, but I'm tired. However I do have the next few scenes in my mind so maybe possibly hopefully it won't take me another year to get them on paper. I hope.

As always, please review! It makes me happy to know that people actually read what I write.


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